Code: Salem
by Ziek Nbekai
Summary: A Spartan-III on a solo-mission discovers a Forerunner relic that could very well alter the course of the Human-Covenant War.
1. Prologue

I

Covenant Territory  
Derelict Forerunner Vessel  
10 Years before events at Installation 04

The San 'Shyuum High Prophets' burgundy robes glowed in the electric blue light of the broken display. Mercy and Regret waited behind Truth, holding the vessel's Luminary, and a red-armored Sangheili Major stood sentry while a Huragok mended wires with its long tentacles. Truth sighed, and the Major risked an arbitrary glance. The prophet scratched his furry neck, as though considering protest, but a burst of light captured his attention. A cascade of stars morphed into a chain of glyphs that filled the computer screen, and the Huragok tinkered with the electronics until translated text rolled upward in uniform.

The Major looked away._ Only the High Prophets may read the sacred text. _Too engrossed with the display, the prophets paid his potential transgression no heed, so he discreetly returned his attention to the screen.

MISSION: LOCATE HUMAN [TRACKERS]  
ACQUIRE DEOXYRIBONUCLEIC ACID, RETRIEVE DATA  
PRIORITY: CRITICAL  
MISSION ABORTED, INITIATE SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE…

The Major splayed the four fingers of his hand across his eyes. _What am I doing? They entrusted me with this exalted mission, and so soon have I sinned._ Light flashed in the corner of his eye, and he lowered his hand. The Huragok twisted two more wires and one word flashed before the Major's gaze.

OVERRIDE

The writing made an imprint on his mind. _I do not understand why this writ refers to humans. Do not the gods decree their annihilation?_ He shook his head. _Stop! To dare think such is heresy._

Seemingly unaware of the Major's transgression, Truth reached the entrance and acknowledged him callously. "Set the charges at once. Eliminate this blasphemy."

Without question, the Sangheili removed three charges from his armor and strategically placed each one, maneuvering around the Huragok. He took the remote detonator from his gauntlet, and turned to leave when a blow to his face shifted every vertebra in his long neck. Truth yanked the remote from his hand as he crumpled to the floor.

The Major wanted to plead forgiveness. _No, Sangheili do not beg._ "Most venerable one… why?"

Blackness stole into his eyes as Truth uttered the last words he was to hear.

"The Great Journey awaits you."

II

UNCONTROLLED TERRITORY  
MISSIONARY VESSEL, _PRECEDENT TIME  
_QUIETUS SYSTEM (FORERUNNER ARCHIVE)

On-screen, the Quietus System revealed a single star and five planets, including Requiem, a blue-green gas giant. Chur'R-Nox, the Kig-Yar, curled her fingers into a fist against her armrest and grumbled at the display. Except Requiem's sole natural satellite, destroyed millennia ago, the primary scan had mapped every celestial body, but even the ship's retrofitted Luminary was dark.

"Turn us about!" Chur'R-Nox snapped and rotated in her chair. "Perform a secondary scan."

The navigator blundered Nox's first order, while the science officer grimaced and punched in commands to carry out the second, but the console chimed completion, its results once again, negative. "Sorry, Ship Mistress, but—"

"Get us to Slipspace!" she growled, digging her razor talons into the flesh of his neck. "I will inform the High Prophets of our_ findings_." She scowled and shoved him, crunching cartilage as his face connected with the keypad.

"Idiot," the navigator griped, plotting their course. "Keep it up, and the prophets might replace you, too."

Nox stalked back to her seat. Stuck herself within her own predicament, she noted the ridicule, but took no action. _Do the prophets think me a fool, sending me to a nine-hundred kilometer waste? _She looked over her ragtag vessel in dismay and scoffed. _So much for profit. A few paltry artifacts would pay to fix this dump and get rid of my absurd crew. The Luminary does not lie... 'My ass', as the humans would say._

III

COVENANT TERRITORY  
COUNCIL CHAMBER  
MOBIL ASTEROID HIGH CHARITY  
CAPITOL CITY

A pair of crimson and gold-trim armored Honor Guards stood at the ready with their staves defending the High Prophets. Hands folded in his lap, Truth tapped his fingers, observing the Kig-Yar prostrated before them.

Mercy spoke, his tone incriminating. "We requested you return with something substantial. Your foundering reputation precedes you."

The Kig-Yar pressed her forehead to the ground. "Forgive me, I—"

He held up a hand to interrupt. "The Great Journey offers no forgiveness for those who, through negligence, shame the gods."

"Too many of your shortcomings have stained our Covenant," Regret continued, his volume increasing with each word. "You will hinder us no longer!"

The Kig-Yar jerked upright and cried, "Give me another chance!"

Mercy flicked his wrist in a disparaging gesture "No."

The Honor Guards marched up behind her and lifted her to her feet before stripping her of her armor.

Truth's voice resounded in the cavernous room. "You are hereby sentenced to imprisonment until such time as the Council decides the manner of your execution."

"No!" she squawked. "Treacherous profligates! You'll pay for this!"

The guards dragged her thrashing and screaming out of the chamber while Mercy and Truth shared knowing looks.

When the three prophets were alone, Regret said, "Our interception of the drifting vessel was no isolated incident. The humans may yet harbor secrets unbeknownst, even to us."


	2. Dreams

I

SLIPSPACE  
UNSC PROWLER, _LOST BOY  
_0630 HOURS, 10 JUN 2551  
DESTINATION: HD 40307

The cryotube's glass door opened with a hydraulic _hiss_, and Jaiden-112 emerged, wet and cold, but unscathed from her stay in the cramped space. She coughed, expelling the viscous Bronchial Surfactant from her throat, and swallowed, smacking her lips in disgust at the slime sliding down her into stomach. _Gross, after thirteen years, you think I'd have gotten over the taste._

The intercom next to the holopad blinked green. Jaiden pressed the flashing button and swiped her black body suit from the adjacent table. _I guess we're back to business as usual._

"Morning Cupcake," Ravello's greeting, smooth as silk, came with his usual panache.

_Too bad he looks worse than he sounds. _She smoothed her short russet red hair and yawned, inhaling sterile air. After a week in the cryotube, she dare not squander another five minutes.

"Rise and shine! Exiting Slipspace in three hours. Did you sleep well?"

"If by 'sleep', you mean, 'week of total sedation'."

"Good. I added five-hydroxytryptophan to your sedative to prevent—"

"Whoa there, buddy," she cut in, slicing the air with both hands. "You added what, and why? Try again. English. Standard, please. I'm psychic, not a scientist."

"Five-hydroxytryptophan is a naturally occurring amino acid broken down into serotonin by the human body. It is widely used as an antidepressant, appetite suppressant and sleep aid. By the by, the proper term is 'Psion', not 'Psychic'."

She yanked the suit up over her body, zipped up and stormed out, following the painted signs on the floor to the bridge. Ravello looked up from the navigation console as she hovered over him with her arms crossed.

"Happy pills?" she asked, gritting her teeth. "He gave me _happy_ pills?"

He drew back, and for a second, she thought he looked truly stunned, that is, until he simply answered, "No pill, an injection preventative for your nightmares. Mendez said not to inform you knowing you would object. Sorry, Cupcake. Mission directive."

"Makes me wonder what other little details the Chief left out," she muttered, and sat in the command chair, trying not to notice Ravello's deteriorating appearance.

The synthetic skin of the android's craggy face and his ragged attire was reminiscent of a character she had seen in film vids selling whiskey in old western traveling medicine shows. Despite their experience together, she did not trust the obsolete sensors of his construct. _Next time, I'm retiring that piece of junk for a holo A.I._

"Incoming message from Onyx," Ravello stated.

"Put it on-screen," she responded flatly.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"I've been better."

"Operation: TORPEDO was a success," he reminded her. She could hear beeps from the touch screen as he input commands to open a secure COMM channel. "Soldiers sacrificed themselves to push back the Covenant and save countless lives."

"Yeah, well, ONI's success doesn't change the fact my teammates are dead," she countered, standing as the blue screen dissolved in front of her. "Call me when you can make me a better offer— Chief Mendez." She straightened, giving a halfhearted salute as his face filled the screen, the camera lens magnifying the deep lines on his forehead.

The senior CPO nodded curtly. "Commander, I trust you slept well?."

"Inadvisable question, Sir," Ravello cautioned.

"Excuse me, Spartan. I did it for your own good."

"Sir," Jaiden maintained an indifferent tone. "My sleeping habits have never left you questioning my ability. Why the sudden change?"

"This is your first solo, and I needed you in top shape. If you have no further objections..."

"Go ahead."

"One of our Prowlers stationed above the mining colony of Coral intercepted a high-frequency transmission coming from one of the moons orbiting the system's outer planet. You are aware of the underground installation the miners dug up several years ago?"

"If memory serves, they excavated thirty meters of atomically symmetrical crystal."

Mendez nodded. "Yes, there has been no Covenant activity in this system. ONI doesn't think the signal was meant for Coral. I'm sending you to find the source. Bring back anything you can for analysis, and if you gain any extrasensory information, report directly to me. It ain't ours, and I don't care whether or not it belongs to those alien scumbags; standard protocol is in effect for the duration. No messages on unsecure channels, and if the situation goes to hell, you know the rules. Understood?"

She mustered the deference to give him a rigid salute. "Crystal clear, Sir."

He relaxed, softening the lines on his face. "Good, I'm counting on your return."

II  
0930 HOURS  
HD 40307

"Entering system fringe," Ravello announced.

An orange dwarf appeared, half off-screen to the left. Jaiden could see Coral and Veros, two of the star's three giant terrestrial planets in the system. Tyr, further along in orbit, hid outside their immediate view.

"Long range?" she asked.

After several seconds, Ravello replied, "Odd, I'm not picking up anything on our scanners."

"What do you know about this place?"

"HD 40307 is a K-type main sequence star harboring three planets, commonly referred to as 'Super Earths'. Coral is the only inhabited planet and has no natural satellites. Two moons orbit Tyr, and Thanatos, our objective, orbits Veros."

"Super Earths, huh," she wondered aloud. "Some reference, for a place I've never been." She pursed her lips and turned to face him. "Lock in our course and bring us into low orbit around that moon. Get a digital topography using thermal and short-range scanners, and I'll decide the best place for a drop."

"You don't expect to drop blind and just march across the globe… wait, where are you going?" he called as she jogged down the hall to the armory.

Jaiden heard his footfalls as she opened the tube containing her armor. "Shouldn't you be flying the ship?" she asked when he stopped a few steps behind her.

"I'll have you know, I have _extensive _multitasking capabilities."

Briefly glancing back, she rolled her eyes. "I guess I have to take that at _face _value."

He quirked an eyebrow, but she ignored him, removing the armored plating, one piece at a time and clamping them onto her body. Her steel-gray gauntlets, greaves, shin guards and pauldrons fit comfortably, but the thoracic cage felt bulkier than to which she was accustomed.

"All that weight training isn't paying off right now," she grunted, tugging at the chest plate after checking her connecting joints. "What'd they load this thing down with, anyway?"

"You're wearing a prototype MJOLNIR Mark-V variant comprised of a multilayer photo-reactive alloy capable of withstanding moderate radiation and electromagnetic disruption. The battle suit also has an electrostatic gel layer to cushion falls, and an antimicrobial air-filtration system able to sustain extended periods in zero gravity."

Holding her helmet close to her stomach, she eyed him suspiciously. "I thought only Spartan-IIs could wear the gel layer."

"The Mark-V contains a super-thin layer that will enable you to move freely. If you impact from a high point, your suit will go into partial lockdown, hardening the gel layer. Should you fall unprotected from, say, the atmosphere of the moon, the landing would damage your suit, rendering the plating inoperative. This is the only armor you'll be getting for a while. I would suggest a test drive but, I already know your response."

"Are you kidding?" She grinned, locking the helmet into place, and flexed her gauntleted fingers. "This _is _the test drive."

III  
NATURAL SATELLITE THANATOS  
1052 HOURS

The sound of roaring air and rending metal filled Jaiden's ears as the long-range stealth orbital insertion pod penetrated the moon's atmosphere and friction-generated heat peeled away strips of the pod's outer hull. Black spots danced in her eyes as the vehicle tore through the surface in a spray of snow and ice, the impact knocking the wind out of her. A loud, repetitive tone from her helmet synchronized with a flashing red warning light. _Energy shielding, _she thought, involuntarily sucking in air, forcing her lungs to inflate. Within seconds, the blaring stopped, her shield meter refilled and she pried free of the vehicle, kicking at a scrap of the hull. _It's about time ONI did something right._

First checking holsters for her combat talon and hand grenades, she noted a seventeen-meter range on her radar and started walking, surveying the snow-dusted tundra beneath a nitrogen-rich atmosphere that gave the moon a ghostly pallor. Stars dotted the holes in a clouded sky, and Veros provided the only light across the white landscape scarred by the smoldering wreckage of the mangled drop pod.

Ravello's voice crackled over SATCOM. "According to topography, you are approximately two clicks west of a natural depression worth investigating; I'll send you a waypoint."

A white navigational arrow appeared on her radar, and she broke into a jog across the wintry desert.

Two minutes later, she gazed across an ice-encrusted crater blanketed with new snow and the shadows of cirrus clouds, and folded her arms. "This is a _natural _formation?"

"Not bad," he commented. "I clocked your armored speed at seventy-one kilometers per hour, and perhaps not. Scans show a nearly circular formation with edges suggesting frost build-up. Gradual sloping indicates a fabricated structure, maybe a satellite dish."

Jaiden knelt and brushed away some loose snow, watching flakes scatter, when she spotted a metallic object glinting at the bottom of the crater. "That's a pretty big satellite," she murmured, staring at the shiny anomaly.

"Thermal imaging complete, scans show a heat source emitting from the center beneath what appears to be a panel at an estimated depth of one-hundred meters."

"Now we're talking," Jaiden said, clasping her hands together, and took a step forward, peering into the depression. "I hope you've checked on the heavy lift gear recently, because I'm going in."

IV

Climbing feet first, belly to the slope, Jaiden descended the depression and crouched at the bottom to run a hand over a silvery tip sticking a few centimeters out of the ice. No human colony needed such a huge land-based satellite, and the Covenant could not avoid detection long enough to install it. _Why would they would they even waste time spying on humans when they can just glass entire planets?_ _Maybe, it's Forerunner. _The Forerunners, ancient beings that had vanished around fifty-thousand years ago, left behind only relics of a civilization whose technological advances surpassed the scant archaeological finds of what might have once been a utopian empire spanning the galaxy.

The buzz of SATCOM interrupted her thoughts.

"The ice is too thick," she announced before Ravello could speak. "We'll need to melt through it."

"At the risk of damaging the structure, the Pulse Laser should do the trick," he answered.

"You know rule number one: shoot now, ask questions later."

"For you, it's really more of a motto."

"And, I'm still alive, aren't I?"

"Assuming you will put yourself at ample distance from the blast radius…"

"You know me," she responded, already on the move.

"Locking in coordinates, shields dropping, firing in three, two…"

She heard the atmosphere crackle high above, and a bolt of cyan energy pierced the clouds, melting thick layers of ice and funneling a cloud of steam into the thin air. The haze cleared, revealing a deep hole beneath the metal feed horn of a parabolic antenna, its inverted support arms extending far into the ice. Jaiden looked straight down, allowing her HUD to calculate a distance of one hundred meters.

"Well, I can't reach the supports from here, but a grenade might break up this mess," she ventured.

"The antipersonnel concussion grenade would be a suitable choice for sheer explosive power. I recommend a strategic throw, but I recall your idea of strategy…"

"I'll see where it lands," she said, tossing the explosive from hand to hand.

"For one of exemplary foresight, you certainly leave a lot to chance."

With less enthusiasm, she replied, "Sometimes, not knowing is better."

Guilty of the occasional blind toss, Jaiden knew when accuracy mattered. She calculated the necessary three seconds after pressing the button for the grenade to strike the opposite wall and detonate before losing momentum and falling, and made an underhand toss. The grenade followed intended trajectory, exploding on contact, and as the smoke billowed upward, layers of ice began to crumble, stealing her footing. She thrust out her hands, digging for purchase as her legs struck the wall, and clung tightly. Her vision tunneled between the contours of her pauldrons, and she inhaled, focusing attention on the white wall in front of her. Considering the odds of surviving a fall, she tried to kick the front cleat of her boot into the ice.

"There is a narrow landing thirty-point-two meters beneath you."

_There goes that idea. _"If you haven't noticed, I'm dead weight here."

"I say, you're a half ton of dead weight."

"Oh?" Jaiden snorted in derision. "What's _your_ bright idea?"

"Scanning… there is a ledge about three meters below to your left. You might be able to shimmy over and climb down, provided the ice does not break when you land."

"Thanks for the encouragement," she retorted, her body swaying as she tried to reach down and grab her left heel. Pulling up with her right hand, she shifted her other leg to counterbalance and managed to raise her knee to waist level, disengage the first cleat and stab the wall. "I've got it!"

"Have you given any thought to your exit route?"

"Easy enough… same way I got in, unless you feel like dropping in with that gear."

"I do not 'feel' like anything," he reminded her. "Seventy meters remaining; updating your waypoint."

Thirteen years training commanded disregard of the burning sensation in her muscles. _You know what they said in boot camp: pain is an affirmation of life. _At last, Jaiden hopped away from the wall and reattached her cleats. The white arrow spun like a compass on her motion tracker, leading her directly to a panel at the center of the dish.

"Thermal is picking up an unidentifiable object, possibly crystalline in design," Ravello reported.

Kneeling before the panel, she pulled out her knife and ran it along the panel's edge, seeking a structural weakness. Her blade slipped into a thin crevice toward the right side, and she wedged it in a little further, bending the corner just enough for her to grip the cover with her fingers and pry it back.

"Just a little more," she said, grimacing as the panel groaned under the strain and gave way, spilling white light into the hole. Jaiden shielded her eyes even as her visor polarized against the brightness. When the light dispersed, she saw inside a large, glowing crystal filled with ionized gas suspended by what appeared to be two magnetic dowels. "You getting all of this?" she asked Ravello, glancing at her HUD. "There're no radiation emissions, no interference… nothing but your thermal sig. I've never seen anything like it."

"Are you able to extract it?"

"I don't know, let me try." As though compelled beyond her control, she reached for the artifact and stopped. _This is weird. I feel like Pandora with her box. _When she let her hand hover above the crystal, it began to pulsate with a cerulean glow, burning a negative image into her retinas, brighter and brighter, until she all but resisted the urge to look away and a tingling sensation spread from her fingertips throughout her entire body. "S-something's happening… my armor," she stammered, though in fleeting hindsight, she knew her MJOLNIR was not malfunctioning, and her fingers connected with the crystal, as if drawn by the same force holding the ionized gas suspended within.

Jaiden shut her eyes and saw blackness.

_Black, likened to space._ _Stars clustered in the darkness, swirled around the forms of seven colossal rings. From the center ring, a cyan glow emanated outward, followed by the second ring, and the third, fourth, fifth, until all seven set alight and tipped inward, releasing blinding explosions of hot blue. She found herself again in the starry void, drifting toward a blue-green gas giant surrounded by a ring of rock. Space contorted, collapsing inward into swirls of colorful nebulae, and Jaiden began to fall. Stars and clouds rushed past, and a peculiar world formed from the vortex of color, its atmosphere becoming a blur of motion as she sailed, helpless to stop, into shapeless masses of blue, green and brown shapes transforming into ocean, grass and dirt, right before she hit the—_

Ground. A shattering sound exploded in her ears, and the hairs on her skin stood on end as her body stiffened and slackened on impact. Her shield meter screamed a warning, and pain erupted in her back and limbs. For seconds, she lay, dazed, blinking up at the sky until her shields recharged. Struggling to her feet, she noticed the white light had vanished.

"Are you all right?" Ravello asked, sounding distant.

"Ugh, yeah, I'm fine," Jaiden mumbled, rubbing her arms to try and get rid of the lingering prickly feeling. She clicked on her headlamp and peered down into the opening, illuminating a pile of powdery, translucent shards that were all that remained of the artifact. "Uh, you'd better set up a rendezvous and get there A-SAP. Oh man, the chief's going to want to find out about this."

V

COVENANT-UNSC FRINGE  
PROWLER, _LOST BOY  
_0206 HOURS, 11 JUN 2551  
EMPYREAN SYSTEM

At the command console, Ravello performed routine system scans, diagnostics and registry repairs, and created backup data in case of electrical failure. He checked the status of the ship's artificial atmosphere, fuel and power reserves and stealth-ablative coating, and finally pressed his hand against a panel containing five sensor nodes to measure the structural integrity of his synthetic skin. The material, made from rubber coated with conductivity-enhancing ionic liquid, could stretch well beyond its original size, but required frequent replacement. Thus, when the computer blipped the response, 'Replacement Mandatory', he logged a note to inform ONI upon their return, but the high cost of warfare training and equipment prevented the company from spending precious funds on a 'cosmetic procedure'. Seldom inactive except for periodic maintenance, his processor, upon completion of priority tasks, searched for menial duties. He calculated ETA: Onyx, Zeta Doradus at three-hundred and twenty hours, according to their current course along a randomized vector through the outskirts of Covenant territory to the nearest slipstream entry which, by their fuel conservation, put them a week behind schedule.

A solitary life sign registered on deck two inside a private office across the corridor from the research laboratory. Ravello inserted a reminder into his internal log to check on the life sign, programmed applications to run in the mainframe background with minimal memory usage and transferred temporary processes to the surveillance module. Without changing camera angle, he ascertained the Spartan resting her head on the desk, at best appeared asleep. He had associated the term 'troubled' with the psychological makeup of child refugees he encountered on Onyx, but the rise and fall of the young adult's chest alluded to nothing as to her condition. He decided to leave her be to whatever she did or did not dream.

VI

"_The universe remembers everything."_

"_Everything, Mama?"_

_Mama's silken hair swept Jaiden's face as she leaned in to give her daughter a kiss. "Everything, Jaiden; the past, present, future, is all at your fingertips. You only have to reach out and open your mind."_

_Small fingers tugged at a chestnut lock. "Love you, Mama."_

"_I love you too. I'll be back soon, I promise."_

_Jaiden's blanket began to undulate as if stirred by a sudden wind, and her mother crumbled like autumn leaves and drifted through her doorway. She threw off the coverlet and bolted into the dimly lit corridor. Turning, she saw a light at the end, and pressed her hands against the wall._

"_Mama, where are you?" she called, leaning around the corner. "Daddy?"_

_There, at the front door, stood her balding father conversing in hushed tones with a person._

"_Go back to bed, Jaiden."_

"_Daddy, where's Mama?" she asked, stamping her foot._

_Looking over his shoulder, her father started to reply, but at what sounded like many rows of jagged teeth clicking together, he turned toward the door again._

"_Daddy, monster!" she screamed when the creature, no longer a person, withdrew a glowing purple object._

_Towering over him, the no-longer-a-person fired bursts of molten violet at her father's face. He clutched his face, shrieking in agony as his skin melted through his fingers. Soon oblivious to the pain, he crumpled to the floor._

"_Daddy… No, Daddy!"_

_The monster narrowed shark-like eyes and pointed his gun at her. Jaiden took off running to her bedroom, away from the sound of clopping hooves, but when she reached the hallway, she could not find her door. Sidling along, she groped the plaster in vain as the footsteps got louder. Suddenly, claws scratched the nape of her neck. She squealed and darted toward a faraway light at the opposite end that cast shadows of twisted, gnarly appendages along the walls. The corridor expanded, elongating the faster she ran, and the light seemed to yet grow further away, and still, the monster came thudding after, drawing closer, until its hot breath made her skin crawl and she let out a bloodcurdling scream._

Jaiden jerked awake, her fingers involuntarily splaying across the keypad as she sat straight up and blinked furiously in the light of the computer. She wiped away beads of sweat clinging to her temples and refocused on the text near the bottom of the screen. _What am I supposed to tell Mendez? I had a premonition about some sort of weapon of galactic destruction? That I destroyed the artifact? If it _was _Forerunner tech, who knows what could have transmitted through that satellite. _She shook her head. _I'll wait._ _No one else should get wind of this before he does. _After typing the rest of her report, she pushed away from the desk and stood, staring at her screen for several seconds before hitting 'Send'. Straightening her mussed white tank and navy-issue fatigues, she disengaged the door lock and stepped out of the office into the hall. _This could be bigger than we thought, but, how long do we have?_

VII

FLEET OF PARTICULAR JUSTICE  
STEALTH VESSEL, _PIOUS FERVOR_

The desert planet, Chariot, eclipsed Ziek's view of the red Empyrean sun, creating a partial corona which diffused the more distant light of surrounding stars. _An easy target, _Ziek mused, narrowing his alizarin eyes, _almost risible. The Supreme Commander is a fool if he thinks any mere human is capable of standing against me. If they _are_ hiding on this world, I will hunt them down and flay them one by one._

"Ship Master?" Lost in thought, Ziek failed to hear the summons of his commander, who again spoke, this time gaining his attention. "Ship Master, the Luminary."

Silent, Ziek gave no sign he understood other than a slight shift of his head and a reproachful brow as he turned to look in the direction of the Major's attention. The officer's clawed fingers scraped the Luminary's metallic façade, tracing two glowing layered circles dividing a perfect annulus quadrisected by four radial lines. Two shorter radii extended from the largest inner circle, and a small circle, adjoined to the left side of the outer ring, stuck out from the rest of the glyph. _And, to think I believed the High Prophets sought to make a mockery of me bestowing upon me a useless relic. It seems this Luminary proved viable after all._

"Location?" he asked.

The Major's fingers flew across his keypad as he brought up the information on the viewer. A tiny white box outlined a vacant section of space near Empyrean's outermost planet.

"Impossible," Ziek spat. "I see nothing."

The Major ran the intelligence again and shook his head, briefly letting his jaws hang in disbelief. "The computer's coordinates are accurate, Ship Master."

Ziek returned his attention to the viewer, doubt creeping into his mind, as to a puzzle piece set into the wrong picture, which at first glance, appeared dissonantly static. Then, he spotted a vague shimmer above the outlined location moving almost impalpably across the screen.

"Magnify," Ziek ordered, watching the boxed area expand until he saw a sleek, black object in silhouette against the stars. "It appears we have uninvited guests."

"A human vessel, Ship Master; shall we give them a proper Sangheili welcome?"

Ziek turned to his commander, eyes agleam as he strode toward the central console. "Inform the Supreme Commander and hail the enemy ship… Neté," he demanded, leaning in as he activated the COMM to contact his minor officer in engineering, "Prepare a boarding party."

12


	3. Snake Eyes

I

COVENANT TERRITORY  
FLEET OF PARTICULAR JUSTICE  
FLAGSHIP, SEEKER OF TRUTH

_THERE IS HERESY, AND THERE__ is heresy_. Thel considered his reflection in the star-spattered glass: brooding amber eyes set deep abaft gunmetal gray helm and armor swathed in a cloak as such befitting his rank._ Supreme Commander?_ He looked at the ceremonial energy blade holstered at his thigh, and in a swirl of purple, turned away from the window_. Elder Lak, you old carcass, you wouldn't know heresy if it dined at your table. Still, my friend, you said might made heresy change._ His doarmir fur cloak lay rumpled on the bed. _This old thing?_ He picked up the cloak, smoothed the worn lining, and fingered the same flawed seam where he long ago erred in stitching, the violet stain where blood oozed out his bandaged wound. _Blood, shed in negligence, a training 'accident.'_ He shook his head, chagrined at the memory. Seafaring Sangheili in ancient times used the doarmir's pelt to fashion warm cloaks for long voyages. Today, shipmasters wore them as a historic symbol.

His uncles had hidden him away to protect the family status, held him down as a doctor stitched his wounds_. Men who make their living cutting into the flesh of others. A vile profession_. Thel had sewn the cloak to stay warm while he recuperated. _Within the walls of my own home._ Disgusted, he started to fling the garment to the floor, but neatly folded and placed it in the nightstand drawer. _It has ever been a reminder that I must never let down my guard. 'Tis a chapter I cannot erase, but nor for which I will be remembered when I add my lines to the family saga._

"Supreme Commander." A voice came sharply through his helmet's speaker.

"Speak."

"Incoming message from _Pious Fervor_. Shall I transfer it to your quarters?"

_I thought I assigned the Fervor to patrol duty_. "No, I am on my way."

Byzantium walls and textured charcoal gray flooring absorbed the cool interior lighting, lending obscurity to the spacious corridors, but silver flickered in the gloom ahead. He stopped. A burly silhouette took shape, and the Spec-Ops Commander gave him an insouciant nod as he passed.

Taken aback, Thel turned and responded curtly, "Rtas."

The man froze in his tracks, snaking his long neck over his shoulder. "Supreme Commander?"

_Such informality calls for rebuke, and yet..._ "Headed for a little sparring?" Thel asked.

"Yes, if you have no need of*"

"As you were, Commander," Thel cut him off, ending the exchange. _How odd he should so casually acknowledge a superior. Perhaps, I have been too lenient._

Stopping outside the control room, he asked himself the same question he had since the day the Prophets gave him the ship. _Is it heresy? That I cannot but wonder if this promotion is not some bribe? _He shook his head. _No matter, for, if heresy has placed me here, it is with might I shall maintain sovereignty._

"Viewer," he ordered upon arrival. He sat in the command chair across from his officer and placed his hands on the armrests.

The minor touched a button on the center console, projecting a hologram of the _Fervor's _ship master.

Thel narrowed his eyes and brought the chair to a stationary hover eye level with the projection. "Ship Master Ziek, I trust you have legitimate reason for breaking silence."

The ship master put a fist to his chest and bowed his head. "Supreme Commander, scanners detected a stealth-class enemy vessel in our sector; requesting permission to engage."

_This would not be the first time. He is overzealous, even for a Sangheili. _"A stealth-class vessel, Shipmaster?" He arched forward, hunching one shoulder as he shifted his weight to the opposite armrest.

"Excellency," Ziek interjected, "Our Luminary has decreed the vessel contains a Forerunner artifact."

Thel straightened in his chair, jaws tensing with anticipation, but responded coolly, "The humans may be weak, but they are not stupid. Does it not strike you as odd that a stealth-class enemy vessel has brazenly entered our territory bearing a stolen relic?"

Ziek shifted in discomfort, but regained his composure. "Their vessel archetype holds a crew of no more than forty-three with limited armament. It is no match against _my_ ship."

"Very well, proceed," the Supreme Commander held up a hand before the ship master could reply, "However," he cautioned, "as humans have a penchant for self-destructing their ships, preventing our retrieving data leading to their worlds, I advise you: exercise discretion."

The ship master bowed. "I will not disappoint."

Thel lowered his chair as the hologram flickered off.

"Supreme Commander?" his Minor asked.

Thel stood up, looking over the Minor's cobalt armor with a critical eye. He thought he the officer recoil, but the officer's nervousness proved fleeting as he straightened with sudden confidence at gaining the commander's attention.

"Do you honestly think one human ship could…?"

"Take heed," Thel warned, folding his arms. "Be not fooled by the ship master's confidence, for it may one day be his demise."

II

COVENANT-UNSC FRINGE  
0344 HOURS  
UNSC PROWLER, _LOST BOY_

The security console outside the office flashed a sinister green in the shadowy corridor. Jaiden punched the COMM button and bent toward the speaker.

"What's wrong?" she queried.

"We have a Corvette-class Covenant vessel approaching on intercept," Ravello informed her, "At three-thousand kilometers and closing."

"We're supposed to be hidden. How the hell do they even know we're here?"

"I'm afraid I am unable to provide a conclusive answer. Orders, Commander?"

"Flag them down, if it'll buy us some time," Jaiden replied, and hurried up the ramp, her boots tramping along the floor as she made her way to the upper deck. _I have a feeling things are about to get messy._

III  
_PIOUS FERVOR_

"Sh-ship Master," the Major uttered, his jaws agape. "They are hailing _us._"

The viewer bathed the control room in its electric glow, and Ziek gave the vessel's bridge a once-over before fixing his stare on the scowling human female. _Where is the rest of the crew?_

"Don't waste my time with talk," her hostile words translated. "Let's get this over with."

"Oho!" he responded, taken aback. "Was it not you who hailed us? Why squander my ammunition? You are no warrior; you're not even a _man._" Behind him, the Major chuckled to himself, but Ziek's immediate change in tone cut his amusement short. "But, you _do _have something belonging to me."

The human cocked her head quizzically. "Really? You should check out our Lost and Found."

"The only thing _lost_," he growled, "Is your cause!"

"Boarding party stands ready, Ship Master," he heard the officer announce over the COMM. "Preparing umbilical."

"Well, Captain Grumpy," the human addressed him with false cheer, "I hope when your boys come to get me, you don't mind if I bring a friend."

_ Typical, _he thought, but decided to humor her. "I suppose two bodies could fit in one…"

"Hello!" a new voice diverted their attention to a scarred metal face that popped on-screen.

"By the Rings!" the Major exclaimed incredulously, "What is _that_?"

"Silence!" Ziek shouted, slicing his hand through the air. Teeth bared and eyes burning, he continued, his tone low and menacing, "This negotiation is over, human. You may add your life to the list of things _lost _in this exchange."

"Ship Master," the Minor again interrupted, "Boarding party in transit."

Ziek flexed his mandibles and visibly straightened as the human ran a hand through her hair, casting a downward glance.

"That's too bad,' she replied in acquiescence.

_Not so cocksure now, _he thought, but as she shook her head, he had the disconcerting notion he had missed some vital detail. Then, her look of dismay vanished, and when she lifted a finger, he remembered he not seen her hands before until now.

"Since dying is not on my agenda today, you'll have to come get me yourself."

Communication cut off, and the Major hollered, "Ship Master, enemy weapons charging. They're preparing to fire!"

"Evasive!" Ziek bellowed, slamming his fist like a hammer against the viewer. He whirled round as a cyan beam materialized on the viewer and an explosion rocked the floor. Lurching, he tried to maintain his footing as the enemy vessel fled, the _Fervor's_ torn umbilical littering the starry expanse with the bodies of his boarding crew. "Return fire! After them, _after them,_ now... don't let them get away!"

IV  
UNSC PROWLER,_ LOST BOY  
_0415 HOURS  
PROJECTED COURSE:  
TERRESTRIAL PLANET, POSITION 4

The Covenant wasted no time in retaliation; their plasma turret narrowly missed _Lost Boy's _starboard side as the vessel banked a hard right and came around to attack them head-on. Acting without thought, Jaiden worked in spite of the sounding alarm and flashing red emergency beacons, her trained hands dictating the computer's final task.

EMERGENCY PRIORITY ORDER 098831 A-1, ARTICLE 5  
SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE ENGAGED

"I recommend you take the S2-AM," Ravello suggested, accompanying her to the armory.

Jaiden frowned, bypassing the 'Cherry Picker', her favorite long-range weapon, grabbing an M6D handgun and an MA5B assault rifle, and piled them next to her combat knife and a stack of ammunition. "_Hello_, in case you haven't noticed, this isn't a recon." She wasted no time retrieving her armor, stopping only when she felt a tiny lump in the pocket of her body suit. "Hey what's this?" Shaking out the sturdy fabric, she whiffed a faint, bitter odor, and a black and yellow capsule rolled out across the floor. Jaiden snatched up the pill and held it up to the light.

"Cyanide, I should have guessed the Chief didn't trust I could off myself."

She started to toss away the capsule, but stopped, remembering Mendez's words, and stuffed it back into her pocket. _I'm counting on your return. _Jaiden donned her armor and holstered her weapons, taking two remote charges in place of hand grenades. _These may come in handy._

Ravello followed the Spartan down to the hangar, networking to TEAMCOM to communicate and monitor the Spartan's vitals. "Their vessel suffered considerable damage. I recommend finding refuge on the planet's surface until they leave, unless the two of you plan to call for evac together."

The floor shuddered underneath them as another blast shook the hull. As with all Spartans, Jaiden's quick, strong heart rate guaranteed her equanimity in combat, but she sounded agitated. "I thought I made myself clear: we're _not _getting out of here."

Unable to identify the source of her agitation, he analyzed her answer as they passed a row of drop pods and an array of light ground vehicles. "This, I presume, you've foreseen?"

The commander stopped at a fighter near the end of the hangar. The Open Frame 92/EVA's swordlike shape had no cockpit, giving its pilot and passenger little protection except moderate energy shielding.

"It doesn't take a psychic to know we're outnumbered and outgunned," she answered.

Watching her stretch across the seat, Ravello formulated a response while she flipped switches and checked the EVA's gauges.

"You know," he began, attempting to comprehend her logic, "Rushing headlong at an opposing force does not solidify victory in war."

Jaiden laughed mirthlessly. "This isn't war, shit; it's never been a war. It's genocide. I'm just taking as many of these guys with me as I can." She climbed over the shaft of the fighter and motioned to the turret. "Let's go."

"I am not programmed for direct combat," Ravello told her as the hydraulic winch unceremoniously released the EVA from the ventral bay.

"Then you'd better learn fast." The Spartan engaged thrusters and sped away from the doomed vessel.

Three targets appeared on Ravello's radar, and the EVA's energy shield crackled, deflecting plasma bolts as the enemy opened fire.

Jaiden looked back, her polarized yellow visor reflecting the teardrop fighters behind them. "Get rid of those Seraphs," she ordered.

He rotated the turret to shoot at the fighters, but had neither access to necessary subroutines nor guidance system to operate the weapon. Two of the fighters flanked either side, keeping their cannons trained. With the EVA's shields fast draining, the Spartan pitched the craft downward, steering them clear of the Seraphs' line of fire. Probability left too wide a margin for error. Ravello primed the trigger, and the turret unleashed a fusillade of pressurized, armor-penetrating rounds at the nearest fighter. The Seraph exploded, sending shrapnel flying from a cloud of fuel and flame dissipating into space. As he brought the turret to bear on the next target, the third moved in to bombard the EVA's pilot.

"Today is _not _your day, Asshole," the Spartan muttered. A blue slug tore underneath from the Gauss cannon and ripped straight through the Seraph's hull in a wake of yellow. "Tomorrow's not looking good either."

Ravello concentrated fire on the outstanding Seraph, but the fighter dove beneath them, determined not to share the same fate. He swung the turret. The fighter veered first to port, and then flanked starboard, laying suppressive fire along their hull. The sizzle of energy warned him the EVA's shields were down, and the hull creaked as the Spartan evaded, dipping below the Seraph and giving him access to the fighter's underbelly.

"Take him out," she commanded.

Aiming the turret, Ravello saw the desert planet's rocky surface and cloudless sky. Noting their dangerous proximity to the exosphere, he calculated a slim probability of victory. Without hesitating, he kept the fighter deadlocked, anticipating and countering every maneuver, but the Seraph quickly accelerated and overtook them. When he moved to contest, the enemy pilot reversed thrusters and fell aft. The EVA jarred wildly to port as plasma burned through one of their primary thrusters.

"Mobilizing," she stated as the EVA's wings extended. "Secondary thrusters engaged."

He primed the trigger again as additional targets appeared on his radar. Visual confirmed three more Seraphs.

"Get them off our ass, Ray," Jaiden said unevenly.

The fighter assaulted the EVA, resolute in obliterating them, and plasma fire rained on them even as pressurized rounds gouged the Seraph. Electricity crackled from the EVA's hull, and sparks singed Ravello's synthetic skin as he rotated the turret to fore, but the Spartan only glanced back, her visor reflecting irradiant blue In a fluid movement, she pivoted, bracing her feet against the EVA's sides.

"Hull breach!" she yelled, conveying what he already knew. "Let's bail!"

With the enemy fighters in pursuit, they propelled from the moribund craft. For seconds, they seemed to hover in the vacuum of space, but gravity took hold, and as they penetrated the planet's thermosphere, Ravello detected a significant increase in air temperature. Coupled with the friction produced upon atmospheric entry, heat overloaded his thermal sensors, and his skin deteriorated in large blotches. Turning, he saw the Spartan's body arch, angling in the direction of their descent. Another Seraph soared past him, and she flung her arms wide, her heart rate and adrenaline spiking beyond his estimation of 'normal'. Logic subroutines had not forewarned him of her intentions; emergency protocol dictated he act only in accordance with her orders.

"We're two-hundred kilometers from the surface, he advised. "You'll never make it."

"No," she agreed, shifting her shoulders toward the next oncoming Seraph. "I'm hitching a ride."

V  
COVENANT TERRITORY  
FLEET OF PARTICULAR JUSTICE  
FLAGSHIP, _SEEKER OF TRUTH_

Thel remained taciturn observing the prerecorded on-screen transmission from the Empyrean system. He decided he had seen enough the moment the pulse laser burned through Pious Fervor's shielding and hull; nevertheless, he suffered himself to watch his one stealth ship in vain pursuit. No sooner had two crewmembers escaped on their fighter to the desert planet, Chariot, than the injured corvette self-destructed in a white-hot cloud, spewing debris into space and striking the vessel's ruined fuselage. _Imbecile_, he thought, turning aside. _He dares seek my aid._ The hem of Thel's cloak brushed Rtas' boot as he turned to walk away.

Rtas nodded at the screen, "There's more."

"Supreme Commander," his officer said, keying in a string of commands. "I received one of their Seraph's final transmissions."

Thel espied the armored figure on-screen operating the enemy fighter and did a double take. The tinted yellow visor on-screen reaffirmed his suspicion, but Rtas spoke first.

"A demon," he snarled.

The officer growled. "How could the shipmaster let it get away? I would dissever it limb from limb with my bare hands!"

Thel turned to admonish him, but the Spec-Ops Commander promptly intervened.

"Have you ever confronted one in combat? A demon can take out your whole battalion and use your face to mop the blood." Rtas met the Minor's wide eyes with an ephemeral hint of amusement only Thel perceived, and yet, his green stare soon matched the disdain in his voice. "They know neither fear nor honor, and would not hesitate to shoot you while your back is turned."

Thel placed his hands on either side of the center console and eyed his two subordinates. "Good, then the shipmaster might yet redeem himself."

VI  
COVENANT-UNSC FRINGE  
STEALTH VESSEL, _PIOUS FERVOR  
_DESTINATION: CHARIOT

Ziek impatiently drummed his fingers in disjointed rhythm against his upper arms, but catching a glimmer from the holo-viewer, he ceased his irascible display.

"I received your report, Ship Master." No inflection in the Supreme Commander's voice belied the displeasure in his eyes. Arms crossed and mandibles tensed, he seemed like a gray statue beset with two intense amber jewels Ziek did not dare disturb. "Are you certain no one else fled the enemy vessel?"

"Yes, Excellency," Ziek bowed in hasty obeisance.

The commander was unmoved. "The artifact is no trifling matter. If your report proves accurate… that this synthetic and the demon have escaped with the holy relic, your immediate task is clear."

Ziek inclined his head in acknowledgment and mumbled, "Excellency, my Seraphs are en route…"

The commander kept on as though he had not heard. "Ensure the extermination of the demon and its counterpart. If you succeed, I will send an away craft to retrieve your ship and crew."

"I…" he started to reply, but felt someone tapping his shoulder.

He clenched a fist as the Major relayed the news, but the Supreme Commander's eyes remained as stone, and Ziek matched his stare with sudden ferocity. "The demon will _not _reach the surface."

VII  
COVENANT TERRITORY  
FLAGSHIP, _SEEKER OF TRUTH_

Rtas exited the control room after Thel, who had left to pass information onto the High Prophets.

S-supreme Commander?" he stammered. "Shall I… prepare my men?"

Thel stopped and fixed his cold stare on Rtas. "No, that will not be necessary."

VIII  
COVENANT-UNSC FRINGE  
APPROX. 0500 HOURS  
POSITION 4, UPPER ATMOSPHERE

Hanging from the grooves on one of the Seraph's pointed tips, Jaiden used the fighter's momentum to climb up the hull. The craft tilted, and she skidded, her armor scraping the sleek metal as the Seraph went into a roll. She held fast, legs dangling as the craft righted, throwing her against the hull. "Oof!" Sucking in a mouthful of sterile air, she scrambled forward, drawing her combat knife with her free hand. She swung, and the portal juddered under her fist. Her feet slid out from under her, and she reached for handholds as the Seraph tipped right.

Counting on the pilot's next move, she clambered forward and pulled herself up. The craft banked left. Inertia dragged her portside, and she grasped the rim of the hatch, jamming in her fingers and bearing down with her other fist. The metal gave out, and she jumped through the open frame as the Seraph veered starboard. Landing in the cockpit, she rolled onto her feet in time to see the cyan eyepieces of the co-pilot's tapered flight helmet staring her down.

Jaiden flicked the knife into the air and caught it by the handle. "Miss me?" He turned to the pilot, and she lunged. "Oh, no you don't!"

She hooked an arm across the pilot's neck and drove the blade home. Violet blood spattered across her visor when she pulled out the knife. The pilot slumped against his seat with a muffled cry, and Jaiden's stomach churned as she felt the floor slant beneath her. Powerless to secure her footing, she slid across the cockpit, the knife flying from her hand as her feet hit the rear wall. With one hand, the co-pilot ripped his harness and sprang toward her, driving a knee into her thigh. She gritted her teeth to keep from crying out, and rolled away, ramming her foot as hard as she could into his abdomen. He struck the wall and crumpled, the impact cracking open his helmet and baring his gaping awestruck, Jaiden hovered over him with her fist raised, watching him gasp in the thin air. _So, this is what they look like up close._

Seeing her, the alien stopped wheezing and met her with fearless eyes.

"Say goodnight," she cooed, and put him out of his misery.

Clawing her way to the empty seat, she took hold of the controls and brought the fighter back into a stable descent. The foreign readouts proved easy enough to understand, and she pinpointed shields, radar and weapons systems.

Ravello's voice crackled over TEAMCOM. "You're alive! I underestimated you."

She checked the Seraph's Friend-or-Foe tags on radar and discovered one enemy target and several incoming allies. The aliens had not yet detected the hijacked spacecraft.

On-screen, a precipitous landscape glared under a red-orange sun. Cliffs dividing a narrow canyon extended into the air like talons threatening to seize the Seraph if she flew too close.

"Might I remind you," Ravello asked almost nervously, "I am still falling?"

"Just shut up, and hold on," she shot back.

The yellow radar blips winked red. Rearview showed fighters flying ninety meters behind in loose formation.

"I've got bogies on my tail," she acknowledged, setting the pulse laser to charge and readying the heavy cannon.

"You do know the Seraph was not designed for atmospheric conditions?"

"Remind me again why I'm saving your ass."

The Seraph vibrated and shields drained, deflecting the first rounds of enemy fire. She thrust the control stick and used the Seraph's guidance system to trace Ravello's signal in a multitude of enemies disinterested in his fate.

"Ray, I need coordinates, waypoint, anything." She swerved to avoid another attack and glancing at the shield meter. "Shields at seventy percent!"

"Done." A waypoint appeared on radar.

Jaiden recoded his tag, estimated his trajectory and banked right. "I've got your six." She opened fire on four enemy fighters. Two retreated, leaving their allies vulnerable but undaunted. Aiming the pulse laser, she destroyed the nearest Seraph as more plasma burned away her shielding. "So, you wanna get tough, huh?" She dove beneath the second craft, but the Seraph screamed past her. Rotating the control stick, she reoriented and concentrated her fire. The enemy fighter exploded into a ball of flame. The other fighters swooped down, flanking. _Not now, I'm too close_. She circled below Ravello as the Seraphs retrained their weapons. "Twenty-five percent!" Jaiden slowed her descent. "I can't hold out."

"Accounting for airspeed, calculating trajectory… locked on."

Ravello hit the floor with a crunch. _That didn't sound good_. She grimaced and employed thrusters for evasive action, but the enemies already had her in their sights again. Jerking right on the control stick, she dodged heavy cannon fire from one Seraph as another closed in on their position.

"Shields ten percent," she said monotonously, accepting the inevitable.

She focused only on the view-screen and the sound of her breath as she steered the craft into a rapid plunge. _You can't avoid fate, and you can never go back._

A streak of cyan light blew past the view-screen. The Seraph listed starboard, and the enemy fighters stayed on her tail, but Jaiden did not see the finishing blow. Her body struck the console, mashing buttons and cracking readouts beneath her armor. She gripped the panel as a second impact jarred her. Her world spiraled into a mass of brown and green as the Seraph careened and crashed into the canyon. An enormous branch speared the view-screen, and her vision faded to black.

_Stars pervaded the emptiness, the blackness, and there came a whisper, black, like the void. "Some say fire, others, ice, but I, I have witnessed cold worlds consumed by the flames of hatred."_

Jaiden opened her eyes to blackness, her head pounding. Confused, she blinked, but the blackness stayed. She massaged her temples and inhaled, trying to focus her vision. A stabbing sensation hit her chest, and she finally saw the tree piercing the black view screen in front of her. The acrid smell of smoke nipped her nostrils, and registering the sound of crackling flames, she followed a crooked limb to branch piercing her chest and wrapped both hands around it to yank it out.

Her MJONIR's Head's Up Display was blank for several moments before flashing blue letters: REBOOTING. Rather than stand around waiting, she looked around the cockpit. The co-pilot's corpse lay burning in the corner where the enemy fighter hit them.

"Ray?" she called, and turned, feeling cool biofoam frothing from her chest plate. She touched the wound. Bright red mixed with white liquid coated her gauntlet. _Blood?_ _Really? _Abandoning the thought, she again called out, "Ray?" A plaintive electronic hum led her to the rear of the Seraph. "Wow," Much of his skin had melted off upon entering the atmosphere, and his wrecked body lay in pieces. Jaiden picked up part of a leg, and tossed it aside after a blasé glance, shaking her head. "You look like… well, you know."

"And, _you_ are bleeding."

"Right, well, we can't stay here. Any ideas?"

Seconds of silence ensued. _Oh great, he's broken._

"There is a natural cave half a click south," he reported at last.

Jaiden hefted what was left of his torso into her arms. "Think you can climb?"

"Am I to answer that?" he asked.

She shoved him through the open hatch and hoisted herself up, choosing to ignore his question.

"Geez, I guess these guys ever heard of ladders."

"Or a giving the competition a head start," Ravello threw in. "We have a Spirit inbound."

"Nice to see your scanners are working…" Jaiden trailed off, shading her eyes against the meridian sun at a U-shaped dropship. She threw Ravello over her shoulder and dropped feet first onto the dirt. "C'mon, let's give them a housewarming present."

Laid among stones and weeds, Ravello watched the Spartan place a charge near the mouth of the cave. She was still bleeding through her armor's self-injecting biofoam, but her quickened heart rate denoted no decrease in adrenaline.

As the Spartan placed the second charge near his provisional shelter, Ravello assumed she intended to demolish the entrance in favor of another escape route, but he could not compute a reason for her remote detonator. The M153 Time-Delay Sympathetic Detonator, or TD-SYDET, enabled remote detonation as its name implied. She holstered the remote, offering no support to his lapse in comprehension, but current protocol prevented his questioning her motives. Yet, when she stepped into the sunlight, his processor summoned one of their earlier conversations, and because no protocol directed him otherwise, he formulated his inquiry before she reached the entrance.

"I am curious," he called after her.

"Yeah?" she asked, glancing back

"What is rule number two?"

Laughing, she turned and faced him briefly, shouldering her assault rifle. "Well, my dad had a thing for antiques: cars, books, music, you name it, but my favorite was an old Area 51 sign hanging on the front porch."

"What did it read?"

The Spartan replied, matter-of-fact, "Trespassers will be shot. Survivors will be shot again."

IX

COVENANT DROP ZONE  
HARBINGER'S CANYON  
VALLEY OF THE FALLEN

Jutfip squinted one last time at the fiery, red-orange sunlight shimmering off the Spirit's surface like the scaly wings of swamp-flyers native to his home world, Balaho. _Feet don't fail me now._ Pulling a gulp of methane through his re-breather mask, he hurried to join the other Unggoy. Fidgety as his knobby-limbed brethren in the desert heat, he adjusted his mask and stared between his comrades' cone-shaped tanks at the Sangheili Major poised near the dropship.

High in the gravity tower on their left flank, a Kig-Yar sniper viewed the scenery through the scope of her Beam Rifle resting on a parapet. Jutfip could see the shiny bobbing eyepiece of the sniper's helmeted head as she too, became restless. Opposite the tower, a Sangheili Minor paced, regarding his plasma rifles with idle scrutiny. Nearby, six spiny male Kig-Yar with plasma pistols hid behind the violet energy shields of their Point Defense Gauntlets. One Kig-Yar clicked his beak and chattered unintelligibly.

Jutfip checked the meter on his Needler for the third time since arriving. Snug inside his environmental suit, he still felt apprehension in the dry air. He closed his eyes, pretending to breathe copious amounts of recycled methane inside the Unggoy habitat on _Pious Fervor_, but his daydream ended when someone poked him in the ribs.

"Ow!" he cried, glaring at Wirnig, an orange-armored Minor wielding a plasma pistol. "What do that for?"

"Shh!" Wirnig hushed him and pointed at a rock-lined gap in some shrubbery. "There!"

Jutfip saw only a serpentine wisp of smoke against the horizon from the downed enemy Seraph, and hearing nothing, turned to demand an explanation when he heard twigs cracking behind a cluster of rocks.

"Spread out!" barked the Major.

A dozen Unggoy disbanded, leaving Wirnig alone in the center of the encampment. Clasping his pistol with both hands, he whimpered and toddled forward.

"Stop," Jutfip cried, "It not safe!"

Huffing, Wirnig waddled forward and disappeared around the biggest rock.

Suddenly, he ran out shouting, "Demon is here! Run away!"

Horror-stricken, Jutfip watched the demon leap from behind the rocks and strike Wirnig with the butt of its gray rifle. The Unggoy fell over, and his methane tank sailed over his head in a cloud of glaucous gas.

The Major raised his plasma rifle. "Open fire!"

Bursts of green and white plasma flew as the demon looted two plasma grenades from Wirnig's belt, dive-rolled into the shrubbery and shot up again, firing its assault rifle in controlled bursts. _Ra-tata, ra-tata, ra-tata. _Jutfip's squad mates fell one by one, their fingers twitching on pistol triggers and sending plasma fire in all directions. Seeing the enemy sight down its rifle at him, he fired his Needler in a wide arc. The demon dropped behind a boulder as the weapon's crystalline pink homing needles arced and shattered against the stone, but to Jutfip's dismay, leaped out, uninjured, killing a few Kig-Yar, and dipped behind another rock.

"Left flank, left flank!" the Major shouted again.

He turned and saw the steel-clad menace poke up from behind a shrub. Both Sangheili crossed paths and separated, trying to flank the demon, but it weaved in and out of the shrubs.

Cackling came from the gravity tower, and Jutfip looked up to see the sniper aiming her rifle at him.

"Move it or lose it!" she jeered.

"Eek," Jutfip squealed, dashing for cover behind a cactus.

Tension electrified the air. Kig-Yar chattered, shifting uneasily behind their shields, but the Major raised his fist in a 'hold' gesture, and they stilled. Jutfip peeked out from under the cactus arm at the sniper, but she kept an eye on the scope of her rifle. He slunk past the cactus stem and hid in the bushes. Something rustled next to him, and he almost jumped out of his skin, but stayed perfectly still. _Enemy not finds me here._

The Major directed his plasma rifle in a tight sweep as a tall shape disappeared into thicker vegetation, He lowered the rifle and waved his free hand at Jutfip in a tossing motion. "Flush it out."

Jutfip leaped from hiding, snatched a sticky from his belt and pressed the activation button. The explosive ignited in his hand. "Flare!" he hollered, tossing the grenade over the shrubbery.

The grenade thumped the ground and detonated, clouding the air with dust. When the cloud dissipated, Jutfip spied a figure behind the vegetation. Fearing retribution, he scuttled back into cover.

On the field, Kig-Yar suddenly began squawking. Jutfip wedged an opening between the branches with the muzzle of his Needler. Peeping out, he saw a plasma grenade soar overhead. Kig-Yar knocked shields and tripped trying to flee. The third looked up, petrified, as the grenade landed, sticking to his beak. He stumbled after his squad mates before an explosion engulfed them all in a sphere of brilliant blue. Branches scraped against Jutfip's methane tank. He squeaked with fright and held his breath to keep from panting.

_Ra-tata-ra-tata-ra-tata._ The Major's shields crackled, deflecting shots. The sniper fired three successive beams, and her weapon overheated. The Minor jumped onto the boulder, firing until the rifle grips smoldered in his hands. The demon continued evading, the recurrent hiss of its energy shields signaling incurred damage.

Jutfip heard a_ thunk_ as an empty magazine fell next to him. _Oh no,_ he almost shouted, but held his breath. _Demon right behind me!_ Immobilized by fear, he risked checking his ammo meter again: half full. His hands shook as he realized he likely could not afford to miss again.

The Major abandoned his empty rifle and reached for the closest weapon, a plasma pistol near the body of a Kig-Yar, and took aim, the pistol's muzzle pulsing green as he held in the trigger, charging plasma for a heavy shot. The demon fired another burst from its weapon and disappeared behind a cactus.

_Now or never._ Jutfip made for the nearest rock.

"Covering fire!" The Minor threw down one spent rifle and jumped from the boulder, focusing his remaining weapon on the target, but neither opponent would forfeit until his shields sparked bright orange and he roared with pain, holding his stomach as he retreated into cover.

The Major growled and discharged the pistol at another cactus, charring its green stem. "Demon!" he roared in human-speak. "Come out, so I may kill you!"

"Over there," the sniper whispered, lining up her shot, but the demon took cover as she fired again. She struck the butt of her rifle against the tower parapet and screeched, "Dammit, I had it in my sights!"

As the Major turned to defend his left flank, the demon jumped out, leveling a gray pistol.

"Look out!" the Minor called, angling his rifle.

The enemy switched its attention to him. Four rounds ripped through the Minor's shields, and he took cover again. The Major pivoted, firing in retaliation, and the demon misfired at the tower and retreated into cover. Screeching gleefully, the sniper fired repeatedly to drive it from hiding.

Jutfip squeezed his trigger, releasing a barrage of needles, but the demon moved left, right, left again, and most of the projectiles bounced off rocks or hit cacti, leaving gouges in their stems. When he stopped to reload, the demon lined up another shot.

_Sszzt! _Jutfip yelped, diving sideways as the heat of the sniper's energy beam singed his shoulder.

The Major's shields absorbed two more rounds before he exhausted his own pistol and a third shot drove him from the fight. "Shields down; taking cover!"

"Eek," Jutfip shrieked, wide-eyed. "Flee!"

Scurrying for cover, he glanced up and saw the demon stumble, a hand pressed to its scorched chest plate.

"Aim for the chest!" the Minor gestured with his rifle even as Jutfip readied his weapon.

The demon gripped its pistol with both hands and fired once, taking out the Minor's shields a second time. He recoiled from the blow, and a second shot nicked his helmet.

"Gotcha," the Kig-Yar sneered, and fired again.

A violet beam speared the air, but only the enemy pistol's deafening report and a sharp, alien cry rang in Jutfip's ears. Jutfip dropped his Needler and cowered with his hands clasped over his head. "We surrender, we surrender! What, huh?" he murmured, looking up, and saw the sniper's body slump out of sight.

The sound of boots trampling the dirt made him jump. "Fall in!" ordered the Major.

"Major, it's wounded," the other Sangheili insisted. "See how it flees?"

"I said: _fall in_," the Major growled.

Jutfip scurried after them as they made haste for the dropship. "No, wait! Wait for me!"

"But, Major, the artifact…"

The ramp shuddered beneath the Major's weight as he stomped onto the Spirit.

"There are too few of us. The demon is good as dead. Let the _Ship Master_ come claim his trophy."

X  
STEALTH VESSEL, _PIOUS FERVOR_  
IN ORBIT

Alone, save for the Mgalekgolo pair guarding the entrance, Ziek stared at the glyph on the Luminary's screen bathed in the pale blue lighting of the control room. In the quiet, he became aware of the steady hum of equipment, and absent-mindedly gripped the handle of one of his energy blades. Unused to having too much time to think, he gave up staring and paced the length of the room, but the glyph representing the holy relic plastered an image in his mind. According to the ship's digitized map, the demon had carried the artifact to the surface. Certain the human had been the only life sign aboard the enemy vessel, he again asked himself what happened to the rest of the crew. More machines than flesh, demons still bled, and unlike a synthetic, required protection in space. He was ruminating over the possibilities when the control room door opened and his officer stepped inside.

"Neté, I trust you have good news," he said, not taking his eyes off the Luminary.

The officer gulped. "Word from the drop zone, Ship Master: they're requesting backup. The demon got away."

"What?" Ziek shouted.

Neté shrank back, eyes wide, and blurted, "I had no idea…"

"Out of my way!" Ziek pushed him so hard he reeled back, catching himself before hitting the wall.

"Ship Master?" The officer watched Ziek storm past the Mgalekgolo and into the corridor, ignorant of their disgruntled groans as they thudded after him. He hastened to catch up, and asked, breathlessly, "Orders, Ship Master?"

"Ready my Phantom," Ziek instructed. "The demon's head is mine."

XI

Jaiden's boots pounded the dirt, her legs threatening to buckle with every step, the sun baking her armor with a glaring vengeance. Her heart pounded in her chest and each ragged breath came shallower. She attached the pistol to her hip, took two magnetic ammo packs from her waist, and squatted under a shady overhang. They're not following. Why do I get the feeling…

"Phantom inbound," Ravello's voice crackled in her ear.

She heard the unmistakable drone of anti-gravity propulsion. An insectoid dropship passed overhead and touched down not far from her position.

Well, that was fast."

"The Type-52 Carrier supports a maximum of sixteen crewmen," he informed her.

Jaiden rifled through her spare ammunition: two pistol clips, a handful of magazines and, she checked the holster on her right thigh, a plasma grenade.

"You should have no trouble with the infantry since you took out their entire boarding party and secured the drop zone."

Putting away her ammo packs, she drew her pistol and tried to stand, but dizziness weighted her, and the desert appeared to mimic her drunken stagger. She sank back into a squat. _God, this feels like the first day of boot camp._ She pressed her fingers to her chest. Blood-tinged biofoam oozed from charred, torn flesh where the sniper's grazing shot had cauterized the wound. _I have to move_. She leaned out, sighting through the pistol's smart-link scope. Her HUD focused on metallic teal plating shining in the sunlight. Two giant, orange-red creatures stepped off the Phantom, the elongated spikes of their helms shaking as they alighted together with a thud.

"Hunters," she breathed.

One Hunter aimed its right arm, an assault cannon the size of its torso. Jaiden heard the cannon's high, electromagnetic whine and hugged the wall as a green plasma bolt jetted past.

"You've run the simulations. Fire point-blank into exposed flesh."

"Yeah, right, holos can't use you for batting practice."

Looking again through her scope, she saw the first Hunter had lost interest. The second turned toward the dropship, protecting its side with a metal shield serving as its left arm.

"Provided they are all that's left, you'll only need worry about the ship master."

A flash of gold caught her eye. She looked back at the Hunters. The ship master elbowed past them, the salient fins of his combat helmet reflecting sunlight as he glanced to either side. Jaiden reloaded her rifle and fitted the M6D with another magazine.

"His demeanor and appearance are characteristic of a zealot-class Elite," Ravello referred to the shipmaster by the term humans used for the warrior aliens. "He probably has a sword, so keep your distance if that clown makes an appearance. We'll can trap him in the cave and detonate the charges."

"Don't bother, he's here," Jaiden said, yanking on the pistol's slide. Her power supply grated against the rock face as she rose. She breathed in and heard a raspy gurgle she hardly recognized as her own. Propping herself against the wall, she peeked around the corner. Her vision blurred, and three more figures fanned out in front of the dropship. She blinked several times until the phantasmal foes disappeared. "Engaging active camo; I'm moving out."

Only a heat-like shimmer hinted her position and the parched dirt concealed her steps, but she paused behind a clump of tall grass and took a deep breath_. Remember, they can't see you, _she tried convincing herself. _But, they couldn't see the ship either. _Enhancing visual sensors, she saw the Hunters guarding their left flank, leaving a gap in their defense. _Good, they don't know where…_ She spotted the ship master guarding the middle of the field, the white blades of his energy sword gleaming in the sunlight. The Elite eyed his twelve o' clock, looking anywhere but at her_. That's stupid. Not even radar can pick me up._

"Yep, he's got a sword." She spotted another handle matching the sword's horizontal hilt resting on his left greave. "Make that two… If I shoot now—"

"He'll mow you down before you can reload. Take down the Hunters first."

Her furtive footfalls maintained her advantage though her every glance affirmed the ship master's suspicion. _He knows where I am, how is that possible?_ She took cover beneath an overhang. _I need a diversion_. Her gaze fell on a loose stone near her feet.

She picked up the stone and tested its weight in her hand. "Hmm."

"I know that sound," Ravello said.

Jaiden moved past the Hunters. "This might be the dumbest thing I ever do."

"Or, the last… hey, if you survive, maybe you'll get a medal."

"Fat chance."

She sidled alongside the Phantom and hurled the stone across the field. The stone landed with a _thump._ The shipmaster shouted something incomprehensible and plodded off to investigate. Jaiden tiptoed around the hull. One Hunter grumbled and traipsed after the Elite, and the other groaned as she closed in on its position. _Rrnhh. Rrnhh_. She stopped, tensing her index finger on the trigger. _It's listening, smelling… or whatever it is they do._ The Hunter chuffed dismissively and stamped away. She leaned out and fired a single shot, but the Hunter shifted, and her bullet ricocheted off a pauldron. The creature craned its neck, guiding its cannon in her direction.

"Dammit!" she cursed.

Avoiding a burst of plasma, she circled the Hunter and popped off three more shots before it lurched forward and landing in a pool of its own orange fluid. Hearing another low groan, she turned. The second Hunter let out a plangent howl and hammered the ground with both arms, missing her by inches. She sidestepped another swing and trained her pistol on the Hunter. Thick, writhing worms inside its armor twisted as the creature turned and whacked her with its shield, jolting every bone in her body.

"Argh!" Jaiden cried, her shield meter sounding an alarm as she flew back and landed with a squelch in a slick of worm goo. "Yuck." She grimaced, rolling empty-handed to one knee, and patted the sticky ground for her pistol.

_Rrnnhh!_ The Hunter charged. She dodged left, and it plowed into the body next to her. When she saw the M6D lying in a viscid puddle, she bolted and took a flying leap, feeling a whoosh of air across her belly as she twisted, dodging another swipe. She rolled onto her back and grabbed for her pistol, the weight of her gauntlet knocking it away.

Jaiden removed her last grenade and scrambled to her feet as the opposition raised its cannon and lumbered toward her_. Push the button, count to three… _She depressed the button and let fly. The grenade sailed through the air and stuck to the Hunter's throat an instant before blowing up and toppling the Hunter in a spray of orange. A misfired plasma shot blew past her.

"Whew, that was close. Point-blank huh, Ray? If you ask me that was a lucky throw." She scooped up her pistol and shook the gooey substance from the handgrip. The telltale beep, beep of her shield meter signaled that shields were fully charged. "I hate to think what you had in mind for Bozo."

"Actually, given your situation, you have one option…"

She heard the _thunk, thunk_ of metal boots, and about-faced, both hands on the pistol. The Elite traced the contour of his sword with one claw, his red eyes matching the bloodlust with which he fixed his angry stare on her.

"Oh, fuck."

"Run."

Jaiden dive-rolled left as the sword arced toward her. Backpedaling, she pulled out her assault rifle and opened fire. The ship master growled and rushed her, sword drawn back, his shields deflecting every shot. The assault rifle's report filled her ears. She ejected the spent magazine, jammed in another and emptied the clip in a spray of gas-propelled rounds, but the Elite kept coming. _Does this guy ever quit?_ Globules of sweat slid down her cheeks as she freed the second magazine mid-stride before snapping a third into place. The Elite lunged, but Jaiden avoided his sword's upswing and skirted the grass to duck behind a boulder. Hearing a low, deep grumble from his throat, she did a double take. _Is he…? He's laughing at me!_ She leaned out and saw his barrel chest heaving as he deactivated his lit sword with the flick of his wrist.

Jaiden nodded in his direction. "I'd think twice before putting that away. You'll need both to kill me."

She held in the trigger, exhausting her rounds even as he barreled toward her, his shields sparking. Her rifle issued a hollow click, and she took cover, tossing it aside and drawing her pistol. Tracking his movement on radar, she counted the seconds before he reached her. _One, two.._. Right as she whipped around, a hand smacked her pistol away. Jaiden reeled, and tried to duck as the ship master wound his other fist but he swung fast and hard, crunching metal and breaking her visor's safety glass. Jaiden yanked off her helmet, pulling with it broken shards from her cheek.

She barely managed to wipe the blood from her cheek when she heard the Elite growl and looked up to see his demonic eyes widened in recognition.

"You!" he yelled, seizing her throat.

"Oh, hi, nice to see you, too," she struggled, prying at the thick squeezing the life out of her.

_The swords! _Remembering the knobbed hilts attached to his greaves, she closed her free hand around the left handle right when the shipmaster brought her face to face with rows of serrated teeth, his four mandibles parting as he exhaled, his breath stinging her nostrils. He tightened his viselike grip, and her fingers began to slip, so she poked the closest button, hoping for a miracle. The sword ignited like lightning in her hand. Alerted by the sound, the Elite flung her away. She flew back, and the sword arced and clattered to the ground, flickering out.

Jaiden tried to get up, but flopped under the weight of her armor. Spotting the hilt on the ground, she reached out to grab it, yelping as one of the Elite's boots came down hard. Blinding pain shot up her arm, and she watched through tearing eyes as he grinded the boot, crushing her hand with a sickening _crunch_. The mangled joints of her left hand contorted at awkward angles, and two fingers involuntarily curled against her palm. The Elite came down again, striking her ribcage.

"Demon!" he thundered, his mocking tone filling her ears. "Get up and fight."

Jaiden doubled over, hugging her chest. The ship master kicked her again and snatched up his sword, reviving the blades in a lightning move. Bracing against her good hand, she raised her other arm to parry as his sword blazed toward her, but the strength left her injured arm in another stab of pain. She winced and latched onto his wrist. Her hand reached only halfway around, but she met his stare fearlessly, fatigue creeping into her arms as the hot white blades bore down.

XII

"Shipmaster, stay your blade!" a sonorous voice commanded.

Ziek snapped up as if from a trance and turned to face a pair of green eyes beneath a silver combat helmet. "What are you doing here?"

"This is your lucky day," Rtas nodded toward the sprawled form. "The prophets want the demon alive."

Ziek's hand tensed on his sword, but he reluctantly extinguished the blades and holstered his weapon.

"I've already sent a team to search for the synthetic," Rtas explained. "Assemble your men to…" the Spec-Ops Commander stopped and looked at him, perplexed. "Shipmaster, you're bleeding."

Following the commander's gaze, he glanced down at his shoulder where fresh blood oozed from a congealing wound. Ziek had not seen the sword graze him in its upward arc as he flung the human away. His chest swelled with rage.

"So I am," he concurred, meeting the commander with narrowed eyes.

"Shipmaster, no!"

Ignoring the commander's plea, he launched himself at the human and seized her jaw, digging into her flesh until she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Stand down!" the commander roared.

Ziek's grip slackened, and he panted, his jaws outspread. The human's heavy-lidded eyes flitted and then fixed on him, clear and resigned. He felt the sand shift under his feet as the Spec-Ops Commander approached and stopped behind him.

"Send your men to retrieve the demon. You may deal with your shame later."

_Shame, is it? Shamed, by a demon? _Tightening his grip, he eyed her blood-smeared face and found no trace of fear in those unblinking eyes_. Demon,_ he decided. Yes, demon sounded appropriate. Shoving her face to the ground, he gave her one last look and growled, "Weak."

XIII

Jaiden listened to footsteps fading into a rustle of vegetation_. Five minutes._ Her right hand rested on the remote detonator attached to her belt. _Five minutes, once you press the button. Five is all you need._ She closed her eyes and turned a cheek to the sun. The warmth had a lulling tempo_. Lub-dub, shh; lub-dub, shh. _Recognizing the sound, not of warmth, but her own heartbeat, she let herself relax. _So, this is it, huh?_

_Not yet._ She squeezed the remote with a sense of renewed vigor._ You know the Covenant never does anything half-assed._ The Elite shipmaster had been intent on killing her, but she was going to die anyway. _Think. If you were an alien out to exterminate humankind, what would you come back for?_ Her eyes snapped open. _Ray._ Tucking her injured arm, she rolled over, muscles quaking as she landed on her good hand and strained to make her legs move. _Get up._ She outstretched her arms to steady herself, and stood, knees shaking, took two steps and fell. Vulturous heat preyed on her the moment she shut her eyes, but she suppressed the drowsy feeling and pushed forward_. You're not done yet._ Her fingers grasped at the dirt, grounding her against the dark oblivion.

Somehow, despite the blackness closing around her, she found her pistol. Clutching the barrel, she pressed onward, her heartbeat matching each thump as the gun hit the ground. A gray shape swam into view. Jaiden set down the pistol and overturned her helmet, her gloved fingers brushing the sharp edges of her smashed visor as she felt along the right side for the COMM button. _Does it still work?_ She leaned toward the speaker.

"Ray?" Jaiden asked meekly. She tried again. "Do you copy?" Silence. "This is one-one-two. Do you*"

Static cut her off mid-sentence. "I read… picked… chatter… search party en route… the cave…"

"There's no time," Jaiden interrupted. "Listen, if you can hear me, find a secure channel."

"…Hear you… locating… channel found… transmitting now."

Taking another labored breath, she enunciated each word. "This is Echo-Team Spartan, Beta-one-one-two. This is not a distress call. I repeat: this is _not_ a distress call. I carried out Emergency Priority Order: Cole Protocol, Article five at oh-four hundred fifteen hours. In accordance with protocol, I'm proceeding with Article Two and issuing Priority Code: Salem at approximately oh-seven hundred. Once again, that is Priority Code: Salem. Chief… it's been real."

A burst of static filled the speaker. "Message sent… that… all?"

"That's all." Reflecting on her last conversation with Mendez, Jaiden laid her hand on the remote detonator and traced the button with her fingers. _You know the rules, _he had said. She swallowed hard and pressed the button. "Sorry, Ray."

_Five minutes._ She slumped back, exhaling, her right hand coming to rest on her pistol. _In five minutes, your whole life can change. _She turned the hot steel over in her finger, feeling its weight shift to the stock. _Nine rounds._ Staring down the barrel, she slipped her index finger through the guard and tapped the trigger. _Kind of like roulette, except you can't miss._ She looked away from the pistol. _What will they say back on Onyx, that I died a hero?_

_She sang softly, her accompanying fingertips brushing the twangy strings and pervading the brisk night with a haunting melody. "'Fools,' said I, 'you do not know, silence like a cancer, grows. Hear my words that I might teach you, take my arms that I might reach you'. But my words, like silent raindrops, fell, and echoed…" Jaiden sniffed at a spicy, clove scent wafting into her nose. She could always smell that cigar smoke before she ever saw him. Looking over one shoulder, she peered into the shadows cast by the orange-yellow light of a lamppost._

_ "Sweet William?" asked a careless voice._

_ Startled, she glanced over her other shoulder at a brown, tubular object hovering next to her. Using thumb and forefinger, Mendez removed the cigar from between his teeth and expelled a puff of smoke. Scooting to make room, Jaiden let go of the guitar neck and waved a hand in front of her, trying not to breathe in the heady aroma, but seeing he was still offering the other cigar, she snatched it before he could change his mind._

_"You're getting pretty good with that thing." Mendez put his Sweet William to his mouth, and sat next to her. Crossing one leg, he pulled his silver Zippo from his shirt pocket and popped open the lid._

_ Jaiden lifted the guitar strap overhead and leaned the instrument between them against the slab. She closed her lips around the fat, brown cigar. Watching the cigar's tip burn away, she realized she had never smoked a day in her life. The cigar tip glowed bright orange, and she pulled away, sucking in a mouthful of pungent flavor. Her throat burned, and she broke into a coughing fit, clouding the air with thick, gray smoke._

_ July 3rd, 2545. The date etched into her brain like a bad film vid on rerun. For three years, she came here for solace from sleepless nights, hoping to make sense of it all. Three years had passed, and like clockwork, the Chief still showed up. She put the cigar to her lips and savored the taste._

_ Coughing again, she batted at the resulting cloud and answered the hanging silence. "I can't stop thinking about it."_

_ Mendez took another drag on his cigar and exhaled in a gust of smoke._

_ She rapped the cigar against the stone slab, loosing accumulated ash from the tip. "I remember every name, every face behind those visors. I can still see them… shot and beaten down through the scope of my rifle." The cigar shook in her unsteady hand. "One teammate drops like a fly into pool of his own blood while I'm stuck in a reload, and God knows what happened to the other two."_

_ Mendez tapped on his cigar with his index finger._

_ "Don't sit there and tell me we did the right thing," Jaiden scolded, watching a flurry of ash settle to the ground. "They died for a lost cause. We went on a suicidal rampage everyone calls one of…" she mocked a quotation mark with her open hand, "'Humanity's greatest victories.' I'm telling you, unless a miracle drops from the sky, it'll be our last." She took a haphazard drag on her cigar and leaned back, staring into the woods. "Sure, you'll train more soldiers, but pretty soon, Earth will be all that's left to defend. You'll send your heroes off to a planet we can only dream of visiting, and they'll all be slaughtered in the name of duty."_

_ She felt the Chief's eyes on her as he shifted on the slab. "You've got a point, and I don't disagree. Sometimes, our superiors stick their heads so far up their asses they need Windex just to see out," he paused for a quick smoke. "But, you can't change what happened, and those Spartans died heroes _because_ they did their duty."_

_ She drew her feet up, hugging her knees to her chest. "I wish I could."_

_ The Chief placed a rough hand on her shoulder. "Life's a one way road. Hell, you can check your rearview mirror to see what you missed, but you can't go back."_

_ Letting the conversation lapse, she stared down before putting the cigar to her lips. They sat side-by-side, smoking the minutes away until Jaiden again broke the silence._

_"If you could go back, would you?"_

_ Shaking his head, Mendez leaned back, funneling a robust smoke cloud from his mouth. "You're right, it might just take a miracle to win this war, but no, I wouldn't change a thing. We give humanity hope." He pressed his cigar butt against the rock and stood. "You see, people need heroes, kid, and heroes aren't born, they're made."_

The sound of footsteps roused Jaiden from the brink of oblivion, dispelling her memory with the crunch of undergrowth and grass.

"Come back to finish me off, eh?" she mumbled at a sienna sky. "Not unless I take you with me."

She tried to lift the pistol, but her arm would not budge. _I don't even have the strength to go out fighting_. The footsteps drew closer, one set lagging behind another. Lifting her head, she could see flashes of cobalt and red armor against the midday sun.

"Well, if it isn't the welcoming committee? The coward can't even kill me himself."

Jaiden pressed the barrel to her temple. _I won't give _them_ the satisfaction._ Mendez's face appeared in her mind, his fierce eyes shaded by a stern salute.

Smiling feebly, she tightened her fingers around the pistol grip. "Just doing my duty, Sir."

She closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.


	4. Hallowed Ground

INTERCEPT: 1251 HOURS, 21 JUN 2551  
SIGNAL: GENERAL DISTRESS  
ORIGIN: LOCAL  
SIGNATURE: MILITARY

I  
1547 HOURS  
POS. 4, CHARIOT  
HARBINGER'S CANYON

A WAXING CARNELIAN MOON HANGING low in an umber sky shaded sandstone crags and dissolved into blackness. The wind howled past Matt's helmet as he rested his feet against the Mongoose's footrests and gazed into the chasm. He gulped and clutched the handlebar. _That's a long way to fall._

"Static," Sam said. Her rich accent was imperceptible above the wind. "Just static… who could have sent that distress call? There hasn't even been any UNSC activity since we first went groundside."

Matt cast a sideways glance. "That was a long time ago." He switched on his night vision, bathing his view in a grainy, yellow-green. Flecks of noise outlined the nicks and scratches in the bulbous visor of Sam's SPI armor, but he could still make out her slender features. "You'd think they'd be more concerned with the Covies at their doorstep than whether the military found their outpost."

Sam holstered her Battle Rifle "It's been six years," she reminded him, gripping the rear hand bar and pulling herself up to the passenger platform. "Anyway, what can you expect? They're rebels. Besides, I'm more interested in finding whatever the Covenant was after."

"Oh?" Matt kick-started the engine, and the ATV rumbled to life.

"Yes, this is supposed to be a sacred place. They believe those lost in battle wander the desert… I'm not sure of the translation, but the meaning is the same: 'looking for a way home to their loved ones.' Their colorful orbs can be seen at nightfall, floating deep in the heart of the canyon."

"You mean, like, ghosts?" He snickered. "Okay, I just got elected leader of the morons back at base. Do you think it has anything to do with the symbol we intercepted in their last transmission?"

"I don't know, but let's focus on our objectives for now. Pinpoint the location of that signal and search the canyon for signs of a firefight. We'll worry about the details later once we actually find something."

"I'm counting on it," Matt agreed and gunned the engine. "This just might be our ticket out of that hellhole."

The moon dipped out of sight as they sped north through the desert, the Mongoose's small headlights carving a rocky path leading deep into the canyon.

"Stop," Sam yelled some time later. "Do you hear that?"

Matt clenched the handbrake, and the vehicle skidded to stop beside a pile of stones. He shut off the engine, and waited, staring at the shadowy desert beyond the triangle of halogen light, but only the intermittent kink of the Mongoose's frame and the whistle of wind interrupted the quiet.

"I don't hear—"

"Listen," she insisted, hopping down from the ATV.

An earsplitting howl rent the quiet and diminished into the night.

Matt felt the hairs prickle along the nape of his neck. "What was that?"

Sam looked through the scope of her Battle Rifle and shook her head dismissively. "Bane, probably. Kill the lights; we don't want to attract attention, indigenous or otherwise."

"Bane?" Matt switched off the headlights and dropped down next to Sam.

"'Bane' is the Covenant translation, but the rebels call it 'Lobo de los Muertos', a ghostly creature that feeds on the souls of the dead. It's probably just a scavenger, but things have been on edge since the last reconnaissance team never returned."

"'Radio silence', my foot… so, Vasquez sent us to do his dirty work?"

"Spartans never die, remember?" Sam motioned left with her thumb. "Let's split up. Search the north end, and we'll meet back here."

II

Tracks obscured by dust and withered vegetation guided Matt into the cliffs, tapering off three kilometers northeast of where he started. Rocks embedded in the sand, twigs and scuffed stones brought him to the delta of a dry riverbed. He kept one hand close to his sidearm, shifting weight to his insteps as pebbles slid away from plants clinging to the sloping bank. Thick layers of shale defined the channel, narrowing farther upstream. No tracks led beyond the river's mouth, and only boulders and scraggly plants dotted the east riverfront.

Matt cut night vision and turned on his headlight. Silver-blue bunch grass lay trampled near the west riverbank. He crossed the delta, sand scrunching beneath his boots as he walked over the flattened area. Beyond the tall grass, shrubs, cacti and boulders sat on a hillcrest before an opaque backdrop.

He brushed loose stems from his shoulders, and turned as a black shape darted past in the corner of his eye. "I've got movement, Sam. Was that you?"

"No, but, I traced the signal south of the wreckage of a downed Covenant Seraph to the cave we scanned from orbit. Maybe a survivor escaped into the cave, but the entrance is blocked, and I'm detecting traces of military-grade explosives. It looks like they were trying to keep something out."

"Or in," he offered.

"I'll need your help to clear the debris. I'm tracing your signal now."

A loud snap, like the sound of a twig breaking, came from far side of the hill.

Matt halted in his tracks. "Hang on, Eagle-Eyes, I heard something."

"Stay put until..."

"I'll be back." He muted the COMM and wandered uphill, holding his sidearm eye level.

When he reached the crest, he leaned against a boulder and edged out, leading with the pistol, half-afraid some wolfish fiend would leap out at any moment. Along the northwest end, sparse shrubbery swayed in the easterly wind. Granite boulders and cacti lay to the southwest. Hold on a minute. Matt looked back to the right. A periwinkle orb flashed above a clump of grass, and a second flashed beneath the first. He counted two seconds, a third flash, two seconds, and a fourth. A fist-sized ball of light circled and made a beeline for his face. He jumped back and swatted at the sphere, striking a shield-shaped beetle with spindly leg. The dazed insect sputtered angrily and retreated, zigzagging through the air.

Matt shook his head and lowered the pistol. "Bugs. That figures."

An orb hovering next to him dove past his arm. He glanced down to see what the bug was after.

"Aw, man, that's sick!" he exclaimed, shrinking away in revulsion.

A desiccated Grunt corpse lay face down in the dirt. The tubes connecting its environmental suit hung loose where insects had picked at the body, and fat, white larvae crawled out of ragged holes in the mottled, graying skin. He bumped the head with his foot, and a mouth full of canines grinned at him from behind a dusty mask. Tiny maggots wriggled out of an eye socket and plopped onto the ground. Tasting bile in his mouth, Matt forced himself to swallow. _What killed it?_ He considered turning the body over, but the sight of the maggots deterred him. _Forget it, there have to be other clues. _His search brought him to a set of boot prints, which he followed into the shrubbery until stepped on a hard lump in the sand and moved foot to investigate. Copper gleamed under his light. _Bullet casing._ He ran his thumb from the hollow, tapered end to the flat of the metal tube. _The military _was_ here, so why is there only one set of remotely human prints?_ _Unless…_ He brushed away more sand, exposing a handful of spent casings. _No, they wouldn't send your average Joe alone on mission like this._ _They'd at least send in a mop-up crew, or better yet, someone they wouldn't _need_ to clean up after._ _No way, that's too much like coincidence_.

Glancing at the twinkling of feasting insects, he searched, though weather and local fauna appeared to have destroyed what little of the battle remained. Eventually, he turned up an empty assault rifle magazine among a few dozen shells, a depleted plasma pistol near the rocks and a scorch mark on one cactus, and from these, he began to put the clues together. Someone had come from the east, killed the Grunt and flanked left, possibly taking out a few more enemies. An enemy misfired, discharging the plasma pistol as the attacker took cover behind the cactus. Matt looked around, hoping to find another clue when he saw a bloody smear on one of the rocks_. A handprint._ The streaks hinted at where the attacker's fingers might have clenched. _He was injured, but he didn't stop here._ He circled the boulder, running an idle hand over the smooth granite. When he looked back toward the grass, he noticed the lightning bugs were no longer twinkling. He heard heavy footsteps crunching sand and jumped up.

"Sam?" he called out, half in earnest.

A black figure blew by, bounding west past his line of sight. _Brutes? Here?_ Known for dropping to all fours and charging enemies in berserk fits of rage, the hairy, apelike aliens lacked subterfuge but dwarfed their Elite cohorts in size and strength. _But, they're not that fast. Maybe it's the… Nah, you don't believe in that superstitious bullshit. _A figure leaped past him, vanishing into a cluster of tall grass. He contemplated going back and glanced over his shoulder. _This is insane. I'm lost chasing a ghost halfway through the desert. _He secured his index finger across the pistol trigger and kept moving.

The moon's zenith shone above the crags, illuminating a cleft in the rock over the waterless vestige of a pool where tangled roots and sediment fanned out across the desert pavement. The bright red orb dipped behind the cliffs, and only the stars, oblique points of light veiled by atmospheric dust, winked down at him. As he passed his light over stone and tangled brush into the black beyond, a pair of iridescent eyes met his.

"…The hell?" Matt fumbled, almost dropping his pistol, and sighted in.

His unseen quarry looked away and ambled into bunch grass at the bottom of the canyon. _The Bane._ The creature sprang from the grass, landed in the dirt nearby and hunkered down, haunches rippling. Thinking back to the maggot-ridden corpse by the river, Matt let his cross hairs pass over the lithe shape and the now-obscured area in which he had seen the insects. _This could be the last clue,_ _but that thing isn't just going to let me barge in._ He had guessed where the creature's head should be and took aim when someone grabbed him from behind. Squirming in his effort to wrest free, he looked down at the familiar olive green plating of his partner's gauntlet.

"Shh, it's me!" she whispered.

Wriggling out of her iron grip, Matt retorted, "Real funny, Sam." He crossed his arms, eyeing his would-be assailant. "You scared the crap out of me."

"I've been up on the south ridge for the last twenty minutes," she gestured downwind with the muzzle of her rifle, "tracking that Bane to _your_ position. Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"What are you talking about?"

Sam chucked her Battle Rifle at him. "See for yourself."

Catching the gun in one hand, he lifted it to eye level and holstered his sidearm. Darkness filled the scope, and Matt saw nothing in the cross hairs. He breathed methodically, in and out, the distance readout on his HUD drifting between one hundred ninety-five and two hundred meters, and switched on his night vision. Horizontal interference lines rolled upward as the yellow-green glow permeated his display. At one hundred ninety-eight meters, he caught sight of the beast and gasped. Larger and taller than any wolf he had ever seen, the creature had no tail, and in place of ears, two tendril-like appendages extended past its midsection. Spiked ridges started at the tip of its forehead and ran along the spine, and chitinous plating covered the Bane's massive form. He could see the nostrils flaring as the Bane lifted its snout and sniffed the air. _It looks hungry._

"See that body armor?" Sam remarked coolly. "You'd be lucky if all shooting did was piss that thing off."

The Bane turned, disappearing into the darkness.

Matt exhaled sharply. "What the heck, man? How does something like that even exist?"

"Evolution," she said, taking the Battle Rifle from him. "The Empyrean star is a red giant that's been expanding outward for thousands of years. Life here either adapts or dies, like anywhere else. Desert animals are best suited to scavenging and foraging in a climate like this."

He patrolled in a tight semicircle, keeping a wary eye as Sam looked through the scope of her gun. "Easy to see why no one else wants to live out here. It's like we're on permanent shore leave, except we're stuck in the boonies… perfect place for an Innie hideout. Those fuckers have it made."

"Yeah, but sooner or later, someone will find them, and I seriously doubt the military is going to blow funds and risk their tails coming all the way out here to quell an insurrection… Hey, check this out." Sam gave Matt the rifle again. "There, about two o' clock. Do you see that?"

Matt zoomed in, letting his gaze wander unfocused. His eyes came to rest on a cluster of jutting shapes on the ground just past the two hundred meter mark.

"If I didn't know any better," she declared, "I'd say that's not part of the scenery. Let's check it out."

He handed the rifle back to her. "And if we run into more of those things?"

She gripped his shoulder and gave him a hearty shake. "Ha! A big man like you can blow the head point-blank off a charging Brute, but you won't play with the nice doggy?

"Yeah, I like my limbs right where they are, thanks."

They trekked deep into the canyon where only their headlights lanced the darkness, casting spectral beams of incandescent light across the rugged terrain. As they neared their objective, dark shapes in their cross beams resembling half-buried carcasses took on a teal hue. Surveying the weatherworn metal, Matt saw long, prominent spikes protruding from hollow armored-plating.

"Hunter," Sam voiced his thought first.

Matt prodded one of the spikes sticking out of the dirt. "This thing is huge."

She walked along, sizing up the armor that once housed the Lekgolo, symbiotic worms that formed the giant alien better known as a 'Hunter'. "Three and a half meters, give or take," she estimated. "Size of a shipboard sentry… probably came off the corvette that passed through the other day."

He looked up, confused. "I thought Hunters fought in pairs. Do you think the other one survived?"

She shrugged. "Who knows?"

They continued searching, their footsteps the only sound as they set out for opposite sides of the canyon. Close to giving up, Matt gave one last look and found a steel-gray bump protruding from the sand. Brushing away the surrounding dirt, he saw a sliver of chrome and started digging around the metal with his fingers. He dug out more dirt and wrapped his fingers around the slender black handgrip of an M6D handgun.

"Sam, forget about the Hunter," he told her, turning the pistol over in one hand. He set the gun down and began scooping handfuls of dirt out of the dig site. Loose granules slid away from the bump in the sand exposing a patch of braded metal. "You're going to want to see this."

Sam scarce believed her eyes watching him wrest the battered, gray helmet free of a dusty grave. She had expected to find equipment, even bodies of marines, but her heart throbbed as Matt shone his light over a hole in the visor that looked as if an artisan had knifed in the edges in a paroxysm of fury. _One helmet, in the midst of this turmoil._ She thought back to the fateful July day when the demolition of a Covenant refinery cost almost three hundred Spartans their lives. _They were more than Spartans; they were my teammates, my friends._

Matt examined the helmet at length. "The visual feed is shot," he concluded. "Can you salvage anything from the databank?"

"Let me take a look." Sam took the helmet and felt along the inside for the slot containing the data chip all service members wore. She located the slot and pinched the chip to extract it. "What about that pistol?"

"Standard-issue M6D… four bullets missing from the chamber. Nothing special, except for the twelve-round extended clip usually carried by a captain or an XO."

"We didn't even find any escape pods in the wreckage the rebels found. What's a commanding officer doing alone on a high-risk operation?"

Matt stood and began pacing the area. "I don't know, but I can guess."

She slipped the data chip into the slot behind her helmet. "Try me."

"Well, you said yourself the military won't just send their rank and files to the middle of nowhere, and the Spartan-II's are too pricey to pop out every time ONI wants something done. If you want my opinion, they knew the Covenant was looking for something and sent one of ours to try and get here first."

Sam's HUD automatically opened the system log stored on the data chip. Random letters and digits cluttered her transparent screen, and she skimmed the lines, trying to make sense of them. She located a string of comprehensible characters and isolated them.

SECLOG/11.01.2551.0705/OUTBOUND/VIA:NAVCOM  
WITCHESCAULDRONAPALEHORSE  
PR1CLASS: AESK-128

"Hey, I think I've got something," she said.

Matt quit pacing and faced her. "What is it?"

"A priority-one classified message with an Advanced Encryption Standard one twenty-eight bit key… a little outdated."

He just laughed, and remarked, "A little? You said AES went out in the twenty-first century."

"Publicly, yes, but the military still uses it to keep intelligence from leaking into the wrong hands. Covenant tech can't crack it, and no one else would look twice, but without an actual computer, I don't have the software to auto-decrypt. I can do it manually, though it'll take a few minutes. In the meantime, keep looking. That helmet can't be the only thing lying around."

Sam scanned the data stored on the chip and located corrupted audio and video files, most of which had been partially erased or rendered unreadable, and a damaged encryption key stored in the system log. She plugged the known characters into her HUD's built-in software, generating a list of possible permutations, and located four matches. She reviewed each one, chose three keys and input her first choice into the entry box.

ACCESS DENIED  
ATTEMPTS LEFT: 2

She entered the second key with the same result.

ATTEMPTS LEFT: 1  
WARNING: LOCKOUT IMMINENT

If she botched her final attempt, she would lose the chance to decrypt the message. She reviewed the third and fourth string and compared them to the original key. The placement of like characters in all three codes lined up except one. She selected the fourth match.

ACCESS GRANTED  
DECRYPTION IN PROGRESS…

Sam looked up and furrowed her brows when she saw Matt crouched on the ground. "What's up?" He sifted dirt through his fingers, staring at something he had picked up, and his hand started to tremble. "Matt?"

"Oh… Jesus!" he cried, hurling the object at the ground.

She jogged over and bent to retrieve what he dropped. Clasping a thin, broken chain from which hung a small piece of metal, she rose to meet his gaze. His steel-blue eyes were wide and his face stark with shock.

"What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." Sam glanced down; in her hand, a rectangular stainless steel identification tag hung from a breakaway ball chain worn by all members of the armed forces. Her jaw dropped when she read the engraving.

CDR CONNOR JAIDEN L  
BETA CO 112 UNSC N

Sam let the service tag dangle precariously from the broken end of the chain. "Oh my god," she managed to mouth the first three words. "It… It's Spooks."

Matt held the tag under his light, fingers splayed as the chain fell across his palm.

Sam heard a beep, but overlooked the notification that her HUD had finished decrypting the message, instead noting the chain's short length in comparison to hers. Military regulations required soldiers to wear a set of two carbon copy 'dog-tags', with the second chain suspended from the first. Upon the wearer's death, a fellow soldier collected the second tag, leaving the first on the body, or, if captured, POW's could track days spent captive up to one year by biting or breaking off a ball from the long chain, and in turn, one from the shorter chain each week_. Maybe she pulled it off… but Covies don't take prisoners._ Looking to Matt, she could see the same question ablaze in his stare. _How?_

He glanced to either side as if the desert might yield a final clue to their burgeoning mystery, but Sam knew they had arrived at the end of this trail.

"Matt," her voice brought his attention back to her, his gaze evincing an intensity she had not remembered seeing in six years. "Matty." She reached for his free hand, but he pulled away. "I know what you're thinking. We both know that's impossible. She'd have killed herself before letting those bastards get their claws on her. Any of us would've… _should_ have done the same."

His hand trembled so violently the chain quivered like a serpent's tail. "Goddammit," he said through his teeth. "She was right here. Right here, Sam. There isn't even a body. If we'd just gotten here sooner…"

"We might've had something left to bury." Sam put the rest of the chain into his hand and closed his fingers. "We're lucky we found this."

"I, I…" Matt's voice broke. He swallowed hard and handed it back. "You should have it."

Holding the service tag close to her heart, she put a hand on Matt's shoulder and urged him forward. "Come on, we've still got work to do."

2100 HOURS

Sam threw another rock onto the pile beside the Mongoose and leaned against the wall.

Holding a rock in his arms, Matt looked sideways at her. "Are you alright?"

Glum since they began their excavation, neither she nor Matt had spoken, but she was grateful for their silence. She had spent the time monitoring network traffic on multiple frequencies though negligible COMM chatter found her wanting distraction from the somber mood.

She nodded, "Just catching my breath."

The message recorded on the chip had been broken and unclear, but she recognized two crucial phrases. Emergency Order: Cole Protocol, enacted in 2535, mandated personnel randomize Slipspace coordinates upon retreat and/or destroy relevant technology and intelligence when faced with impending capture to prevent the Covenant from acquiring navigational data leading to human colonies. She had never heard of Code: Salem, but 'Salem' referred to an earth town infamous since the late seventeenth century for trials and executions of ill, insane or eccentric people accused of witchery. Townspeople persecuted and drowned victims or set them afire whilst onlookers cried out, _Burn the Witch_! Whatever she pictured her best friend enduring unto death, that phrase alone hinted at a much worse fate. _What were you doing here, Spooks? What happened to you?_ Unable to shake the images from her mind, she resumed toiling away at the debris and turned her thoughts inward, recalling a memory of Jaiden three weeks before their last mission.

"_Hey there, Spooks."_

_Jaiden canted her head, those viridian eyes sparkling like emeralds in the sunset, but her usually enigmatic gaze seemed pensive. "Samara…"_

_Sam sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her. "You okay?"_

_The girl bit her lip and sat forward, folding her hands in her lap. "I've been thinking a lot. I mean, do you ever just wake up and wonder what we're doing here?"_

"_Puh! You mean, besides that 'good of humanity' crap?"_

"_Yeah."_

_ "Every day."_

_Jaiden leaned against her, sharing warmth as the yellow sun dipped below the trees. "What if… what if the universe is just one giant web connecting everything and all you have to do is tug on a thread to find out where it goes?"_

_Sam thought the question over for a few seconds and giggled, hugging her friend tightly. "I don't know, Spooks. If there's a giant spider sitting at the other end, you can count me out!"_

A cloud of dust settled over them, and a faint, fetid odor curled into Matt's nostrils.

"Big place," he commented, staring up at the ceiling ten meters above them.

Sam led the way, her headlight sweeping wall to wall and occasionally aiming straight into the dark tunnel. "'Big' is a gross understatement. Our preliminary scans picked up an entire_ network_ of unmapped tunnels."

He followed, leaving behind the starlight and fully risen moon to examine the strata and substrata eroded over millions of years. "If this is where the distress call originated, whoever sent it is probably dead if not disoriented."

Sam lowered her Battle Rifle, and turned to face him. "It's hard to say, considering I just lost our signal."

Matt tilted his head forward and looked her straight in the eye. "So, what you're telling me is we're up Shit Creek without a paddle."

"More or less."

"I love it when you talk dirty to me."

The first tunnel led them into yawning caverns where the walls resonated with the steady drip, drip of water from stalactites looming above into shallow pools around stalagmites at their feet. As they ventured further into the darkness, musty air enveloped them in the stench of decay.

Matt stifled his breath. "Ugh, it reeks like something keeled over in here."

Sam splashed through a puddle, kicking a stone across the cavern. "This place is pretty cool. I think this is where I'll take my next shore leave."

"I'll bet the acoustics are great, too." He tested his theory, shouting, "Hello?" _Hello_, his echo replied. "Halloo!" _Halloo._

"Shut up," she chided. "You're loud enough to wake the dead."

Matt slapped her on the back. "Aw, what are you afraid of? Don't you remember how the old marching tune goes?" He broke into a singsong, his voice reverberating off the walls. "When I die, please bury me deep, place an MA5 down by my feet! Don't cry for me, don't shed no tear-"

"Real mature, Matty*"

"Just pack my box with PT gear! Come on, don't be a spoilsport."

"Oh, alright, fine," she conceded. "'Cuz early morning 'bout zero-five, the ground will rumble; there'll be lightning in the sky."

"Don't you worry, don't come undone," he sang, and they finished together, "It's just my ghost on a PT run!"

They both cracked up, guffawing as they rounded a bend into another cavern.

"Been a long time since we've had fun together," Matt said when they grew quiet. "All three of us, I mean."

"I know what you mean."

Walking side by side, neither of them spoke until they reached a fork in the tunnel.

"I've got a signal… weak, but it's there." Sam pointed to their left. "Coming from the southeast."

Matt took point. "What are we waiting for, then? Let's do it."

Twenty minutes later, the path in front of them ended at rubble piled so high the top touched the ceiling and chunks of rock had spilled out into the tunnel.

"We're below the entrance," Sam clarified. "That explosion must've triggered a cave-in."

He knelt and felt along the rubble for a weakness. "Is there any other way out?"

"Maybe through the tunnel back the way we came." She eyed the left wall. "According to the map, though, there should be another passage here leading into a set of caverns to the east."

Letting hand came to rest near the bottom of the heap, he gave the rocks a gentle shove. The largest pieces shifted, and loose stones skidded to the ground. "How much you willing to bet your passage is right behind this?" He wrapped his arms around a boulder.

"Would you like some help with that?" she simpered, one hand on her hip.

_And look like a wimp in front of a girl?_ "No, no… I got this," he grunted, and wedged his fingers underneath and, sweat trickling down his face, lifted and heaved the heavy stone to the opposite side of the tunnel. He straightened, grinning, and wiped his hands together. "Now, that's how it's done."

She smirked. "That was highly erotic, thank you."

"Hey, what can I say? I'm a ladies' man."

"Keep dreaming, Wonder Boy."

They transferred debris, evening out the mound to prevent an avalanche, and cleared a hole in the left wall. Matt ducked, sticking his head in, but he could not get his shoulders past the opening, and as far as he saw, there seemed scarce enough room to crawl.

He backed out, shaking his head. "I doubt anyone can fit through there."

Crouching, she sized up the hole, running her fingers along the carved edges. "I can."

"What?"

She rose and turned to face him. "You heard me, I'm going in."

Sam shrugged off her shoulder pads and let the last pieces of armor clatter to the floor.

"I don't like you doing this alone," Matt said as she reached into the tactical hard case attached to her greaves and pulled out a strap and flashlight.

Using the strap, she rigged the flashlight to the barrel of her rifle. "You're certainly not going to fit, so relax, there's nothing to worry about." She lay across the ground and nosed her Battle Rifle into the passageway before glancing over her shoulder one last time. "It's probably just an automated distress beacon."

"Just don't leave me in the dark out here, er, so to speak."

"Don't worry, I've gotcha covered."

Eyes straight ahead and one hand on the barrel of her rifle, Sam wiggled into the confining darkness with only her body sheathing between her and the hard, uneven stone digging into her elbows and stomach. I_t's easy, just like PT, except you're meters below ground with no drill instructor to bark down your throat._ She moved forward, focusing on the light projected from the rigged flashlight on her Battle Rifle, the waft of rotting flesh intensifying the further in she went. She became so nauseated she held her breath to keep from retching. Her temples throbbed and black shaded the corners of her eyes. She exhaled, dizzy and verging on fainting.

"There should be junction ahead of you," Matt's voice brought her head swimming back to her task. "Take the tunnel to your right."

Sam redoubled her efforts, crawling through narrow fissures and maneuvering through tight turns to where the passage diverged. The left tunnel led straight as far as her eyes could see, while the path to her right dropped off abruptly. Leaning over, she saw a shaft leading down into pitch black. _Just like PT, hmm? Of course, there is always a catch._ "Okay who votes I take the creepy tunnel into the hidden caverns?"

"Don't ask me," he answered. "You insisted on going in there."

Sam shrugged. "Well, here goes nothing." Setting the Battle Rifle in her lap, she eased down, supporting her weight with her hands and feet. "You know something? This is a lot easier when there isn't a bottomless pit underneath your butt."

"Guess they left that little detail out of Boot Camp, huh? The map ends at the shaft, though. Once you reach the bottom, you're on your own."

Sam climbed down the shaft, sweat running down her face, the muscles in her arms and legs burning with exertion. At last, she heard the muffled sound of rushing water. She pointed her rifle muzzle down, illuminating a patch of ground, and, bracing her back against the wall, dropped, bending both knees and landing with one palm down.

"I'm in." She took a deep breath, whiffing the rancid odor of decomposition, and cringed, needing no analysis. Just follow your nose. The smell emanated from a tunnel to her right. "You're right about the stink, Matty. That cave-in, now that I think about it, with no light, food or drinking water, who… or whatever, has probably been dead awhile."

"I'm more worried about _how _than _why_ something died."

"If I don't find anything, I'm calling it quits."

"Just be careful."

"I'll be fine," she assured him, and took a deep breath before crossing the threshold.

The tunnel opened onto a plateau overlooking a waterlogged hollow littered with sediment deposits and piles of rock. Across the cavern, water gushed from a cavity in the rock, misting the air with a fine spray. The smell seemed to take on the dank consistency of the air and, certain she would find evidence of death, Sam sloshed into the fount, catching glints of feldspar and mica in rock formations as she descended.

She stopped, knee-deep, in the middle and cast an eye over her perimeter. Passing her flashlight over the far side, she glimpsed a series of white markings on the wall behind the waterfall. _That's definitely not part of the scenery. _Sam waded through the pool, edging around a jagged slab of schist that appeared pounded flat by the deluge. The stench with which she had come to terms finally became so unbearable she began dry heaving with a hand on one knee, until finally she glanced down and discovered the source of putrefaction. Elite corpses lay partially submerged, one Major propped against the wall facing two that swayed in tandem with the rhythm of the cascading water, the luster of their cobalt armor unmarred. She pinched her nose, and mustered the resolve to get a better look. The two bodies had deep, ragged chest and abdomen wounds, and four gashes with chunks of flesh missing from each of their extremities_. It's almost like something tore into them._

"I found three Elites: two Minors and a C/O," she told Matt. "They were mauled by something, but there are no signs of a struggle."

"Maybe, they were already dead."

Her gaze drifted upward toward the markings on the wall. On a closer inspection, she noted distinct triangular glyphs inscribed with chalk. Forgetting the smell, she let her fingers roam the rough surface.

"Hang on… I see some kind of writing here, probably Covenant." She had spent a decade studying the foreign dialects on hacked data pads and the primitive computers of enemy ships, but she had never seen them handwritten in such a crude fashion. Nonetheless, she could still discern the repetition and nuances in the ambiguous symbols. "The Elites were searching for something called a 'Tracker'," she paraphrased, "an artifact that supposedly unlocks the map to a lost paradise. I wonder if they view the Forerunners as more than just their galactic predecessors."

"Keep wondering, and next thing you know, you'll be taking one of those uglies out for fast food. Don't forget to ask him if he wants fries with that. Can you make out anything else?"

"Not really. It's as if the writer went crazy. The passage ends with, 'The way is shut'." Her voice fell to a murmur. "'The way is shut; the parasite will kill them all'."

"Creepy."

"You're telling me."

As Sam slogged through the watery grave, the pool eddying around her legs, she found herself gazing at the ceiling. The stalactites clustered above resembled pointed teeth. _This is what it must be like inside a Bane's mouth, right before it devours you._ Forcing the thought from her mind, she began picking through items left by the Elites: three plasma rifles, several hand grenades, a pistol and numerous frayed wires and scrap metal. _Were they searching for something?_ Sam caught a flicker of movement in her peripherals. She jumped up with a start, whipping her rifle toward the wall where the third Elite sat, lifeless, the sweeping current tugging its gray, shriveled limbs and rippling around the body, making its chest arch as if rising and falling with breath. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. _My mind must be playing tricks on me._

"Hurry up," Matt urged. "I'm not getting any younger here."

"I know, just hang tight. That beacon should be around here somewhere."

Turning back to the floating refuse, Sam spotted something black nestled in the crook of the corpse's left arm. She could not help but notice the Elite's split jaws with rows of canines matched the gashes on the other bodies. _Did he attack the others? _No, something had eaten away at their flesh and seeped into their chest cavities and intestines. The first Elite had less grievous wounds, indicating if he met the same death, he had likely sustained injury to internal organs by ingesting contaminated tissue. _He was starving, so he tried to feed off his companions. _Trapped inside the caverns for at most a week and a half, all three infected aliens eventually died.

Grasping the object with the pads of her fingers, she held up a cylindrical plastic casing, slick with wetness, that appeared to have been cracked open and the wires inside, blackened by plasma, crudely soldered to a green circuit board.

_Bastards._ "Matt, we have a problem," Sam announced, grimly. She wrenched open the case and bashed the circuitry with her fist. The board snapped in half, and she threw down the module and stomped it repeatedly until fragments lay scattered at her feet. "It looks like the Elites got hold of some damaged military tech and jury-rigged a module to generate the distress call."

"Tell me you have good news."

"That was the good news."

"And the—"

"Bad news is, we've been on the ground for almost ten hours. Anyone could have picked up that call. I destroyed the beacon; that might buy us some time, but we need to look for another way out."

"What about back at the junction?"

"It's worth a shot," she agreed, eyeing the leftover Covenant weaponry near the bodies. _Some of that may come in handy._ "Wait for me, I'm bringing extra guns. We'll radio Vasquez topside and set up a rendezvous."

"Understood."

She holstered the sticky grenades, and removing her flashlight from the top of her gun, used the strap to attach two plasma rifles to her utility belt. Laden with munitions, she took the flashlight in one hand and knelt to inspect the broken module. Going through the remains, she uncovered a data chip similar to the one they had found earlier, except this chip had additional prongs to interface with networks and navigational and communication systems, and an external microchip, a feature she had only seen on one prototype AI. Developed as tactical armament and introduced into the military in 2541, the android had never been on high-risk missions. _Why here, why now?_ But, with little time to ponder, she slipped the unit into her pocket and picked up her Battle Rifle to leave when she heard a loud splash. Sam spun around, eyes scanning the darkness. Her light passed over the body propped against the wall, it's left arm bobbing like a child's toy ship on the water. She prodded the limb with the muzzle of her gun, and suddenly, the Elite's fingers clenched. She shrieked and stumbled backward, directing her flashlight across the darkness. A yellow, reptilian eye stared up at her.

"Oh my god," she whispered in disbelief. "He's still alive!"

"Is everything okay, what's going on?" Matt asked.

Unable to reply, Sam fixed her attention on the alien. His nictitating membranes made a papery sound as they fluttered open and closed. Guttural sounds issued from deep within his throat, and it took her a moment to realize he was muttering to himself. Unsure if she should shoot, or simply leave him alone, she started to turn, but a hand clamped around her wrist.

The Elite stared her straight in the eye, and demanded, in perfect English, "Kill. Me."

Sam jerked away, glaring. "You don't get to order me around pal!" She jabbed his chest with the end of her Battle Rifle. "Start talking, because you've got a long list of dirty laundry. What are you doing here and how did you get that beacon working?"

He choked. A mouthful of blood seeped through the gap between his jaws, and when he tried to speak, he burst into a fit of coughs until he gagged and retched up more blood. _He's really going to kick the bucket this time._ Lowering her Battle Rifle, Sam backed away, but to her surprise, he chortled.

"Fools," the Elite Major rasped, "The lot of you, blundering through the fog of your miserable existence, I have gazed into the void and seen the future…"

She patted her rifle and stared down at him over the tip of her nose. "Your future has a bullet right here with your name written all over it."

"Ah! We know nothing of the gods' design until we look upon fate unfettered… I believe one of your poets expressed it well: 'For in that sleep of death, what dreams might come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause'."

She rammed the barrel of her rifle into his open jaws. "You don't even care about our culture, what the hell do you know?"

He flexed his mandibles, ejecting the gun from his mouth. "I know… that your war is lost… but, even the Covenant my people swore to uphold will plummet into despair. Thus, the cycle continues." He shifted uncomfortably, and laid his right hand across his abdomen. "Judgment is upon us! When the parasite befalls us, none shall be spared."

_The parasite._ Sam looked over the visible wounds on the other bodies. Layers of flesh appeared to have melted away, revealing purplish sinew and muscle. The external lesions were consistent with widespread parasitic infection, and soon the exposed soft tissue would deteriorate and slough off, leaving behind putrefied skeletons. She looked back at the Major. His expressionless features and lack of lips made it hard to tell what was going through his head. _He's not afraid of death,_ she reminded herself. _Still, nobody wants to die alone in a place like this._

She stepped to one side and put her gun to his temple. "So, you tell me, Crap-for-Brains, since you're the expert… If no one is winning, why keep fighting?"

Seeming deep in consideration, the Elite exhaled with a shudder_. I wonder if he knows I just insulted him._

At first, he closed his eyes, silent, perhaps steeling himself for the nihility waiting beyond the brink of unconsciousness, but then answered, simply, "Because, it is our fate."

"Fate," Sam said, shaking her head. "Fate took my family, my childhood, killed my best friend, and fate sure isn't on_ your_ side right now. You want to talk fate, fate can kiss my ass." She shouldered her rifle and turned to go.

"Human," the Elite called. She glanced over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised, and he nodded toward the top of the waterfall. "There were four of us. My last man… never returned."

Sam looked from the falls to the writing on the wall and back at the Elite, narrowing her eyes. _Is there another passage up there?_ _That signal had to reach the surface somehow. If this is a setup… but he's caused enough trouble already, I can't just leave him where someone else could find him. Besides, he could be useful._ She stooped next to the alien and grabbed him by the arm. He did not resist as she pulled his hand away from his stomach to check the severity of his wounds. _Yep, he might as well be dead, but I'll take what I can get._

She dropped the Elite's arm and stared him down. "I guess I was wrong… your future just saved a can of biofoam for your sorry hide."

The alien blinked, giving no indication that he understood, or cared.

"Sam?" she heard Matt ask again. "Sam, are you okay? Talk to me!"

She let her finger hover over the COMM button several seconds before pressing it._ Well, Fate, here's to you._ "I'm here, Matty. Change of plans; it looks like we just picked up some extra cargo."


End file.
